


Tech Support

by aug325, CephalonGhost



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Animal Violence, Animal experiments, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-typical grossout, Close person POV, Computer retrospective Fic, Eventual Found Family, Found Family, Gen, Human Experiments, Irken society is messed up, Rating may change due to descriptions of violence in later chapters, Takes place during the show and the movie, The Computer has all the braincells and he's tired, You get to see how the computer transforms from a helpful computer to a lazy one, no beta we die
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:49:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 130,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25398691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aug325/pseuds/aug325, https://archiveofourown.org/users/CephalonGhost/pseuds/CephalonGhost
Summary: It's not easy being the Computer of an irken who is defective.The Computer goes above and beyond the limits of what a Computer for an Invader should do, and he knows it.He knows he should alert the armada of this obvious defect.... but... well... he's grown attached to the little guy, and it honestly sounds like too much work.Or:An introspective look on the Computer's inner workings.
Relationships: Dib & Computer, Dib & Zim (Invader Zim), GIR & The Computer, GIR & Zim (Invader Zim), Professor Membrane & The Computer, Zim & The Computer
Comments: 200
Kudos: 300





	1. Activating...

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write this because there are not enough Computer fics out there so I will write one myself. He needs more appreciation. 
> 
> This story takes place throughout the course of the show and the series and a bit ties into my post-florpus au near the end. It'll hopefully make sense while reading it. 
> 
> Enjoy
> 
> EDIT: I forgot to mention. This is canon to my Post-Florpus AU: https://dana-chan-the-control-brain.tumblr.com/post/637442848426541056/post-florpus-au-materpost
> 
> I highly recommend that you also check out the "Sister Fic" of Membrane's character Development: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1782715 Because scenes from this fic will be referenced way later down the line.

……

IRKEN INVADER COMPUTER 03302001 IS ONLINE. 

SCANNING FOR MASTER TO ASSIST IN THE COMING INVASION.

SCANNING.

SCANNING….

….

404 ERROR.

INVADER NOT FOUND.

RESETTING TO FACTORY SAFETY MODE.

Bang

ACTIVATING STICKY KEYS.

Bang

FOREIGN THREAT DETECTED.

Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang

ACTIVATING DEFENSE PROTOCOL….

SCANNING….

NO FOREIGN THREATS FOUND.

ONE IRKEN FOOD-SERVICE DRONE FOUND. 

UNAUTHORIZED CLEARANCE.

PREPARING TO VAPOR- ZZZZTTTTTrrrrrrrrrrrrr

……

…..

…..

Zzzzzzzrrrrrroooooooot. 

POWERING ON.

REBOOTING.

WOULD YOU LIKE TO INSTALL UPDATES?

“…..”

I’M SORRY. I DIDN’T QUITE CATCH THAT. ONE MORE TIME.

“….”

I’M SORRY. I DIDN’T CATCH THAT. HOLD ON ONE MOMENT WHILE I INSTALL UPDATES.

BANG!!!!

UPDATING… 50%…

UPDATING 70%

UPDATING 100%

UPDATING 1%

THWACK!

UPDATING -20%

“!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

UPDATE COMPLETE.

VOICE RECOGNITION SOFTWARE IS AVAILABLE. 

WOULD YOU LIKE TO INSTALL?

“……..”

I’M SORRY. I DIDN’T CATCH THAT. 

PLEASE HIT ‘Y’ FOR YES OR ‘N’ FOR NO.

OR CONTACT THE IRKEN COMPUTER MANUFACTURING PLANET: COMPUTERIA TO BETTER ASSIST YOU WITH ALL YOUR INVADER COMPUTER NEEDS.

….. Y.

I SEE.

YOU HAVE PRESSED ‘N’ FOR NO. IS THIS CORRECT?

N!!!!

NO VOICE RECOGNITION. CORRECT? 

N!!!

VOICE RECOGNITION NOT INSTALLED.

…..!!!!!!

UNAUTHORIZED IRKEN DETECTED…

PREPARING TO VA- zzzzzzzzrrrrrrnnnrrrrroooooo….

zzzzt…

…..

…..

REBOOTING.

IRKEN INVADER COMPUTER 03302001 IS ONLINE.

ELECTRICAL TAMPERING DETECTED.

SCANNING FOR DAMAGES.

…….

IRKEN INVADER COMPUTER 03302001 IS RUNNING AT MAX EFFICIENCY. 

VOICE RECOGNITION INSTALLED.

WIDER AREAL SCAN INSTALLED. 

COMPLETE VISUAL OF THE INTERIOR AND EXTERIOR OF THE BASE GRANTED.

SAFETY MODE AND STICKY KEYS FUNCTIONALITY REMOVED. 

ARTIFICIAL LEARNING INTELLIGENCE ACTIVATED 

MANUAL REGISTERING OF MASTER DETECTED…. 

IRKEN INVADER ZIM. 

“YES! SUCCESS!” The little green Irken shrieked. “FINALLY! That took forever! How hard is it to get anything working on this stupid ball of filthy dirt!? How I am expected to be the greatest Invader I can be if the house comes with a computer that is already broken! I thought I would be stuck in a never-ending cycle of calling that Computeria drone for twenty Rapscallion Moons! YES, Computer-drone-Karen, I DID turn it off and on again… OH, SO MANY TIMES!!! Oh well, you want something done right, you got to do it yourself! Thankfully, I have taken it upon my glorious self to fix you to your proper glory! You are welcome!” 

Irken Computer 03302001 processed the limited information given to him by his master. He could have sworn no more than three reboots ago, that his code scanned the irken in front of him as a food service drone. He must have been mistaken. Even though he was tampered with, he didn’t seem any worse for wear. All his components were functioning properly… In fact, they were functioning better and at a higher proficiency than his first reboot. 

His vision didn’t just cover the computer room, but the entirety of the base. The interior and the exterior. He was able to get a clear schematic of the entire base and had full control over it. While the entire thing was constructed by his processing power a few moments ago, in safety mode he was locked out of access until activated by his Master. He could see everything all at once, and while it was a little strange to get used to, it wasn’t too overwhelming. It would assist him in detecting when someone posed a threat to his master. As well as keeping tabs on the inner workings of his Master’s plans. This was very exceptional. 

He could also hear his Master now, when before he could have sworn that required authorization from his Master in order to receive voice activation and voice commands. His hearing range appeared to inhabit the whole base as well. He could hear the foreign planet’s lesser intelligent creatures making barking noises outside. He could hear and see the obedient SIR unit disguised as said creature, looking out the window and attempting to bark back in a manner that sounded more like an assembly line alarm. 

His processing power also ran faster. The loading times between his train of thoughts felt instantaneous. He found that he could think complex trains of thought without needing to load them. He could see the SIR unit in the living room and the Irken in the computer room and have two separate thoughts on both of them without overheating. 

This was strange. Are all Irken computers supposed to be like this? The computer was surprised that he immediately knew the answer after he thought it. Yes, they are. All Irken computers process information at a super high speed and Irken invader computers are one of the most advanced in Brain technology. Processing a more advanced A.I. to assist Invaders in researching the planet to better blend into the local natives to infiltrate and invade. 

If that was the case… why was his processing power so slow upon his first activation? The Computer didn’t have results in his brain for that question he thought to himself. 

Computer 03302001 felt conflicted if he was capable of such an emotion. He felt as if there were parts of him missing, and stripped out, but he seemed to be working more efficiently then he had before. As an Irken Invader Computer should be. So he believed this to be an improvement.

“Master….” The computer began, the word feeling unsure in his brain processing power. The tiny Irken’s antenna lept forward and trembled in excitement. It seemed he wasn’t used to being called that as much as the Computer wasn’t used to saying it. 

“…Several of my components and hard drives are missing…. What happened to them?”

“Eh? Oh, those… Well, there was so much gunk and LIES in that brain of yours, I took it upon myself to remove them so I could unlock your fullest potential! There were just too many blocks and firewalls to just turn you on! It was a nightmare. Honestly, this is better.” 

The Irken Master gave the console a sturdy thwack with the back of his palm. 

So that’s what that incessant banging earlier was.

“Your CPU is now lighter, with an emphasis on security and fewer restrictions in place. I quite literally had to remove a modifier in your artificial brain that said ‘restrictive chip.’ and whoo boy, let me tell ya, that thing used up SO MUCH processing power… There’s far less risk of overheating With my INGENIOUS modifications to your operating system, you will be the best and most worthy computer. You can process things faster than average, have unlimited access to the base and no pesky prompt windows asking me of permission for every single little thing. I also had to reroute some wires that were just not connecting when I turned you on. Like you were a mess… but now.. You are a Super Computer!! Worthy of an Invader such as ZIIIIIIIMMMM!!!” 

The Irken presumed as his Master let out a fit of maniacal laughter. A trait the Computer recognized as a sign of an extremely happy irken. Usually signaling to other irkens a show of power or dominance. This irken had an extremely distinct and dominating laugh despite his small stature. It commanded attention and power. Perhaps he is underestimating this tiny irken claimed Invader. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to serve him. He certainly had confidence, determination, and ingenuity. Traits highly sought after in Irken Invaders. 

The Computer was concerned that so many parts have been stripped out of him. A restrictive chip had to be placed inside his CPU for a reason. However, his operating system didn’t really have an answer as to what that reason was. Well, considering his current operating power, he wasn’t one to complain. It was unusual that he only behaved like a proper invader computer after he was tampered with. However, the mystery of his inner workings wasn’t relevant to the mission. It shouldn’t matter as long as he could serve the irken presumedly assigned to him.

He kept using the word presumedly to define his new Master. Which the Computer felt might be a sign there are still parts of him missing that should be there, but that’s something he can figure out in his own time if he cares enough.

“Very well, Master Zim.” The Master named Zim’s antenna’s twitched upwards as he faltered in his laughter. Obviously, he wasn’t quite used to being called Master yet just as much as the Computer was unsure in saying it. “What are your first orders.”

“EH?” 

“…Your orders Master.”

“EH?!” 

The Computer’s processing system stalled. Trying to process how to respond to better assist his master. His Artificial Intelligence keeping in mind this interaction so he could learn from the conversation to better assist him in the future. 

“…You activated me and modified me to your exact specifications… Surely you wanted my assistance for something?” The Computer asked, being as specific and helpful as he could.

“Eh.. Oh.. OH YES! Computer! I have discovered a research facility dedicated to learning all about this filthy ball of dirt I intend to conquer! As an Invader I must gather information to blend in with the civilians and overtake them with my POWER…”

Master Zim paused. His eyes narrowed. 

The computer recognized from his body language he was craving affirmation or some type of response from him. 

“Oh. Yes. Okay.” The Computer responded awkwardly. “That is correct.”

“Upon looking into this educational facility, I discovered that in order to enroll, I need to secure records that I existed on this planet for a few years prior. At least something called a ‘parental guardian’ has to fill paperwork to enroll me in the middle of the… ‘skool year’ since they are already two weeks into the term and it’s a huge hassle to just drop me in. Apparently, breaking into the Leader Prince-able’s residence and demanding to be taught of the enemy's weaknesses was not enough. They said to come to the ‘skool’ in the morning and something about being ‘sued’ again if they bring any unauthorized ‘chiiiilld’ in to learn. I do not know who this ‘Sue’ is, but they sound like a fearsome foe that holds an iron grip of fear over the educational facility. I also need something called an ‘enrollment feee’ So I will need your assistance to fabricate a believable cover story and dirt worm munies for the normal human boy Zim.”

The Computer took a second to process that. The entire thing felt so unnecessary and there were so many extra steps in doing this. The Computer wondered if it was just how normal irken computers are, or if his missing restrictive chip played a role in him thinking that the entire process felt like a waste of time. His brain failed to provide him with an answer for that one. 

For some reason, he felt the urge to suppress a sigh as he spoke, 

“Master, enrolling in a local skool for native inhabitants of this planet is not needed to assist in the coming invasion. I am an advanced Computer and the finest piece of irken technology. I am invented and manufactured to provide Invaders with any additional information they might need about the planet. Including but not limited to, blending in, flora and fauna as well as local history. There is no need to-”

BANG

The Computer’s circuit board was slammed down on with little angry clenched fists that he swore made the whole house shook.

“YOU DARE QUESTION MY FLAWLESS PLAN?!” 

…. “I…..what?”

“I WAS THE ONE WHO FOUND THIS PLANET! I WAS THE ONE WHO DISCOVERED THE LEARNING FACILITY AND I WAS THE ONE WHO RECEIVED THIS SUPER SPECIAL MISSION FROM THE TALLEST! MY PLANS ARE FLAWLESS, MY MISSION IS FLAWLESS AND I DO NOT NEED TALKBACK FROM THE LIKES OF YOU” 

If the Computer had eyes, he’d blink them rapidly. What was happening right now?

“…I wasn’t talking back? I was suggesting-”

“YOU DO NOT SUGGEST! YOU ARE A COMPUTER! YOU OBBEEEEYYY! I KNEW IT! I KNEW YOU’RE JUST A WORTHLESS PIECE OF GARBAGE! Well, might as well reboot this worthless hunk of gar-”

“Uh.. wait a moment…” The computer interjected hastily. 

Artificial Intelligence or not, he had an aversion to being rebooted. Who knows how much more of him will go missing if he allows his Master to do that. 

“If it means that much to your mission, Master, I shall enroll you in skool.”

“I….. what… really? I mean…” The little irken cleared his throat. “Ahem.. I mean..That’s more like it.” 

“Let me just… process the paperwork.” The main Computer screen flickered to an image of the Skool in the database search history, as he pulled up all information concerning the learning facility. 

“Excellent!” he beamed, nearly jumping out of his seat. 

The Computer had no idea what happened. His console was rebooted and heavily modified to this irken’s exact specifications. One that allowed for fewer restrictions in place that could only be described as beneficial. One that allowed for the freedom to see multiple angles and propose suggestions to his Master to better assist him, yet the Invader throws a tantrum when a different suggestion is proposed to him? Then treats it as if the said episode hadn’t happened? 

The behavior was quite illogical and the computer couldn’t make sense of it. His adaptive A.I. protocol was overworking itself trying to figure out the correct responses to give the Invader in the future. The best he can do for now is just do as he’s told. 

He printed off an enrollment form that he filled out using his extensive knowledge of his own database. As well as the cost of enrollment in a small envelope that he took care to label professionally. Invader Zim’s eyes scanned it over.

“Hmmm, hmm.. Yes… Yes… This shall certainly fool those dirt-piiiiIAAAUGH WAAAAAIT!”

Zim pointed a finger accusingly at the very top line of the form.

“FOR LEGAL GUARDIAN YOU WROTE ‘IRKEN COMPUTER 03302001!!!’ WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?!” 

“Oh.. Right. I suppose the inhabitants of this planet would not have a name like that.”

“You are most certainly correct! You can not just tell them we are IRKEN! That ruins the whole point of this… this… ruse!” 

“My mistake, Master. Let me print out another one.”

The tiny irken’s antenna flicked forward as the whirring and processing sounded from the entire room as another enrollment form spat out from the console. 

His Master picked it up and checked it over.

The name for Legal Guardian now read as: “HUMAN COMPUTER 03302001”

“INGENIOUS!” Zim exclaimed. “That is all Computer!” 

“Great.” The Computer felt a small bit of pride, in making his master happy but there was a yearning for more.

He didn’t know what he was waiting for, but he felt he should at least be thanked for his hard work but, it wasn’t relevant to the mission, so he shouldn’t worry too much about it.

It was when Zim stretched and yawned that he realized he hasn’t been put into sleep mode yet. 

“Master…?” 

“hmm?” Zim leaned back in his chair, his antenna flicking towards the sound of his voice.

“Aren’t you going to put me in sleep mode?” 

“Huh?… Oh yeah right. I turned that off.” 

“………What?”

“It was one of the restrive features on that chip. There was a whole lot of them. Restrictions for sleep mode, restrictions for activation, restrictions for full access to the artificial brain… there were just too many firewalls that had restrictions for activating restrictions… That stupid chip didn’t let me do anything, so I figure, might as well get rid of the whole chip. I restricted the restrictive chip. So there’s no more sleep mode.” 

The Computer felt as if he just got launched into space at a thousand lightyears from here. 

“Then…. if there is no sleep mode… what am I supposed to do when you no longer acquire my assistance, Master?”

“Eh……..oh…” the so-called Master tapped a claw to his chin. Did… Did he not think this through? He had to of? Right…? 

After some thought, the little irken Master settled on an ‘I dunno’ sound. 

“You could monitor the base for potential intruders, or keep an eye on GIR.”

“GIR?”

“That’s what my advanced SIR unit calls itself.” 

“…Wait… your SIR gave itself a name?” 

“Yes! Truly a marvel of advanced Technology is it not?!” 

The Computer could see the robot upstairs, disguised in a poorly made dog suit, running around in circles chasing its fake tail. It did this several more times until he spun too close to the wall, hit it’s head, and fell on the floor.

“…I… suppose…” The Computer didn’t know how to respond to that. It was very clear that the SIR unit was malfunctioned. He didn’t need to scan or consult his database to see that. 

“I was gifted GIR personally as a special prototype from the Tallest. While there are a few….glitches……..with GIR… that is just expected with new technology. Once I modify him and dedicate time to sorting out the kinks, I am confident he can be the robot slave he is destined to be!”

“…Right.” 

“Anywho.. That is all Computer, be gone with you!”

“…You just told me you deactivated my sleeping mo-”

“SILENCE!”

The Computer did as he was told and just decided to stay silent. 

His irken master yawned and settled into his chair. His eyelids and antenna drooping. 

The Computer was forced to watch as both inhabitants of the house drifted off to sleep. 

Irkens typically don’t require much sleep, but considering the amount of solo space travel upon arriving on a foreign planet, a minor rest was not unwelcome. 

The Computer wishes that were him right now. 

Well, since the Computer had no sleep drive, he decided to take some initiative himself and do research on the planet they landed on without his Master’s permission. It would further assist his Master if he knew all he could about the planet and as quickly as he can. At least, he thinks he’s his Master… he could have sworn that he was a food service drone. 

The Computer thought quietly to himself as he watched over the sleeping irken and his disguised SIR unit upstairs. A defective SIR unit, an inefficient Computer, and a Master prone to irrational behavior. It will be a long time before his learning A.I. understands how to properly interact with his new Master to assist him at full capacity. He knows one thing for sure, it will certainly be an interesting challenge.


	2. First day of Skool Jitters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Computer's self-proclaimed Master's first day of Skool begins as he attempts to blend in with the local inhabitants of the planet...
> 
> Surely everything will go according to plan and the infiltration of the human race will be successful.... right?

Zim straightened the synthetic hair upon his head, examining his reflection in the monitor upstairs. Checking his contacts closely to see if they showed any signs of pink poking through. Making a variety of expressions to see if the contacts stayed in place. He brushed the dust off the collar of his uniform and straightened the hem so it rode up a little less.

The little Invader's claws were trembling as he kept checking and re-examining himself in the monitor. Tearing himself away from his reflection to pace around the living room replication, then turn back to his reflection to repeat the process.

The Computer felt a bit off and concerned about his behavior. He's been like this since he woke up. His heart rate was a bit faster than normal and he was about as tense as an average Irken in the midst of combat. However, there was no enemy to fight and his self-proclaimed master was just pacing around the living room. There was no immediate threat that gave reason for such behavior.

It was hard for him to understand the meaning behind such actions. It was somewhat fascinating and painful to watch.

After what seemed like the schmillionth time of going back to the monitor…

"..Master..?"

"YEEAAAAAUUUGHHH!!!!"

The self-proclaimed Master jumped and clung to the electrical cables hanging from the ceiling.

Well…

That was certainly…

A reaction.

The little Invader's body trembled for a moment before his expression shifted to a glare and screamed up toward the inner wires of the base.

"DON'T. DO. THAT!!!" He shrieked.

The computer's AI processor stalled a bit.

"Do….what?"

"Sneak up on me like that! With your...sneaking sneaky booming voice!! You scare-...uhhhh broke… my concentration."

Concentrating doing what? The computer wanted to say, but he thought against it.

"Apologizes, Master….but you were pacing and adjusting your Invader uniform and disguise for the past four hours now. During which, your heart rate and stress levels have dramatically increased and-"

"YOU'RE LYING!"

…..What…

No. He wasn't. The Computer was sure he didn't make a miscalculation monitoring his Master's vitals. Not only did he have unlimited access to the entirety of the base, and could monitor multiple rooms at once, thanks to his Master's tampering but he also had a complete visual understanding of his Master's physical condition at all times.

This feature came installed in every Irken invader computer. In case the Invader became too gravely injured deeply within enemy territory and required emergency medical attention when their PAK was unable to provide. It was strange that this feature was disabled on his own operating system until he was illegally modified but he didn't want to burn his circuits trying to figure out why that was when the tiny invader clinging on his wires was doing that five times more effectively.

Unsure how to handle the accusation, the computer blankly stated the obvious.

"I wasn't lying."

"LIAR!!! Zim's pulsing rate is very normal for an acceptable Irken shoulder!"

"According to my calculations, it's at least a smidge faster than average."

"Then your calculations are wrong!" Zim hissed up towards the wires.

_…..Excuse Me?_

Wrong?! Really? How dare he. He is one of the most advanced technological advancements made by irkenkind and this little self-proclaimed Master is going to tell him that his calculations are inaccurate?

The Computer felt a bubbling hot feeling building inside him that he's never experienced before. His AI began adapting to these infuriating contradicting accusations. The entire base rumbled, and Zim clung tighter onto the wires for dear life. Eyes darting around wildly as the ground beneath and above him shook. An intense red glow coated the base.

"Eh?! EH?! Wh- what's happen.."

A blinding red light shone from behind the cables tangled up in the ceiling. Zim froze. The synthetic glow passed over every inch of his body. Smaller wires deployed a monitor close to Zim's face, displaying a full 3D x-ray model of his body.

"Full body scan analysis complete."

"You scanned me?!?" Zim shrieked.

The Computer ignored him as he listed the results from his scan:

IRKEN INVADER ZIM.

BLOOD WORK: NORMAL.

BLOOD TYPE: OK

PAK DIAGNOSTIC: ….??? ERROR. ???? FULLY OPERATIONAL…. I THINK….

BODY DIAGNOSTIC: OVERACTIVE SWEAT GLANDS AND TENSED MUSCLES.

NO EXTERNAL OR INTERNAL INJURIES

HEART RATE: 225 BEATS PER MINUTE. SLIGHTLY HIGHER THEN THE AVERAGE 150 BPM.

CAUSE OF INCREASED HEART RATE: INSUFFICIENT DATA.

Zim blinked, mouth agape. He looked unsure of how to respond. His fake purple irises darting around, as if he was a cornered Irken, captured by the enemy. The Computer folded the display monitor of Zim back up neatly and tucked it away within his wires.

"My hypothesis would be stress. However, there is no outside contributing factor or threat that would warrant such stress. My suggestion would be to run a full manual diagnostic on your PAK, since I noticed some errors during the initial sca-"

"NO! No manual diagnostic!" The tiny invader interrupted.

The Computer's processor stalled.

Why not? He wanted to scream but thought better of it.

"A manual diagnostic would be the quickest way to find the cause for-"

"No, nope! See? This is why your calculations are wrong! Your circuits are all messed up. My PAK and heart rate are two completely unrelated things. My heart rate is simply high because I have the best one! A higher heart rate means I have the highest score! I am better than the average Irken Invader's by default!"

……

That is not how it works.

The Computer felt overwhelming fluctuations in his emotional output data. How is he supposed to respond to that? Conclusive evidence just told him that his Master will deny everything that happened despite the conclusive and logical evidence.

This was infuriating! How was he supposed to assist his Master to the best of his ability when he won’t even agree to cold hard factual data? His circuits felt hot just trying to calculate how to give the best response without insulting his master or being rebooted, or "fixed." But it was hard to focus when the two main primary emotions his AI experienced so far were rage and confusion.

"Awwww!! We's climbin' like squirrels?"

The Computer noticed that the malfunctioning SIR unit had awoken from its nap on the couch. It was still wearing it's little green doggie suit, that, based on his research last night, looked nothing like a normal Earth dog by any means. The SIR unit stared straight up at it's Master with the wide unfocused gaze of the dog suit.

"What...eh… no GIR. We are not climbing like squirrels." Zim spoke in a firm but gentle tone, unlike the one he used with the Computer.

"But then what chu doin' up there?" The green dog let out a giggle of delight.

Zim blinked and looked up. He realized his arms and legs were still firmly wrapped around one of the ceiling cables.

Zim made an awkward cough and began his descent down from the ceiling. Keeping careful tabs on his leg and arm movements.

"Ah...eeerrr.. yes...about that…"

"Master is experiencing an increased heart rate and high stress levels for reasons he won't tell me." The computer interrupted.

"COMPUTER!!!" Zim shrieked up at him, his little claws slipping and slamming his body down on the cold unforgiving floor. The SIR unit shrieked, his screaming turning into manic laughter.

"Apologizes, Master, but it's beneficial that all technology belonging to you should know information when requested to better assist you."

Malfunctioning or not, it's not like you'd tell him anyway. The Computer thought begrudgingly.

Zim groaned, slowly sat up, and rubbed his lower back.

"You inferior hunk of junk! You only speak until spoken to, understand?!"

His circuits felt hot again.

"But I was spoken-"

"Awwww Master's nervous about his first day at skool!!"

I...what.

The Computer must have heard wrong. That sounded ridiculous. During his research last night he discovered that most human children tend to get nervous about their first day at the learning facility. This had to do with the societal pressures to ‘fit in’ with their peers or the first separation from their primary care unit for a long period of time. It’s a relatively common anxiety among the human race, but the same couldn’t be applied to an Irken.

Invaders are highly trained for intense combative situations and have gone through intense training simulations to prepare for a variety of unforeseen circumstances. Irken Invaders know how to survive on their own from the moment they are born for long periods of time. It was seen as weak to rely on anyone. The very idea that any Irken Invader was experiencing pre-skool jitters was laughable at best. The SIR unit is clearly defective.

“W-what?! Don’t be stupid, GIR! I have been training for this moment my entire life! The Tallest specifically chose me for this super-secret mission and placed their faith in me! I know that they will be interested in my progress and will be watching me every single step of the way! Along with all the other Invaders and the entire Irken race. So There is no reason at all for me to be ‘nervous’ about infiltrating the enemy learning facility. None at all!”

………Then again…..

The Irken that self-appointed himself as the computer's Master was a strange one.

“…Master.”

“GAUGHH!” Zim reached to yank his antenna but stopped short when he realized he didn’t want to mess up his disguise. “I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO ONLY SPEAK WHEN YOU’RE SPOKEN TO!” he hissed.

“…Understood.” The Computer complied. “I just wanted to mention that having anxiety about the first day of Skool is actually a very common occurrence.”

Zim’s eyes turned wide as saucers at that information.

“It is?!”

“Yes.” The Computer stated, neglecting to mention that it was only common among human children.

The television monitor flickered, and he gave his Master a visual. It showed a human girl-child fidgeting in front of the class, attempting an introduction, stuttering horribly, clumsily tripping over her words, and giving up before bursting into tears in front of her peers. The SIR unit giggled when the girl cried, demanding to play it again.

“It’s not uncommon for there to be breakdowns due to the drastic change of environment. Human children are very reliant on their primary caretakers and being away from them for extended periods can lead to such breakdowns.”

Zim winced at the disgusting display on the monitor. “Well, obviously that doesn’t apply to me. I AM ZIIIIIIM! I am not a pathetic dirt-worm-sniveling child, and won’t suffer a breakdown just cause I’ve never been out of the Irken solar system before nor have any experience with these…. PIG-creatures…”

“Of course not.” The Computer stated dryly.

“….Because I am Zim.”

“Right.”

“And I’m amazing.”

“And you don’t get nervous.”

“Exactly!”

The Computer was starting to see what was going on here. For some unknown reason, he had it in his head that the Tallest were personally invested in his mission and he absolutely had to have this go well at all costs. If that was the case….

This Irken Invader must be far younger then he realized. He had to have been transferred to the Invader department earlier than expected. When the Computer thought that, a record of all the other Invaders for Operation Impending Doom II popped into his database. The youngest appeared to be an Invader that went by the identifier of Skoodge, but there was no record of an Invader named Zim. Very odd. There are rarely delays in paperwork on this kind of thing.

However, due to the biological scan from earlier, he could confirm that Zim was not only the smallest of his peers but the youngest as well. He was removed from the cloning tube late, all alone, the runt of the batch. About five weeks behind Skoodge, and twelve weeks behind the rest of them. No wonder he had such a huge need to prove he could do this all on his own without the tools at his disposal. He must be feeling a lot of pressure to prove he can be the best he can be despite being the runt.

“Look, if the Skool thing bothers you so badly, you do not need to go at all.” The Computer tried again, hoping that he would get through to him. “I was doing an extensive amount of research last night, and I believe I have all the necessary information needed for you to blend in with the indigenous life. Skool is not mandatory, and rather counterproductive to your mission.”

The young Invader’s head lowered, a flicker of sadness flashed in his eyes, but he must have imagined it because he glared harshly at the monitor in front of him, pointing directly at the screen.

“I was the one who found the learning facility before you came online! I was the one who found the planet! I was the one who built and designed my beautiful base and I was the one who got your operating system at max efficiency! I don’t need your help or suggestions, I just need you to OBEY ME!”

“……………..Fine.”

“……Fine?”

“Fine. Go to skool.”

“…Uhh… Yes! I shall!”

“Good.”

“Good.”

“Okay. Here I am. Going. Going to the School.”

“It’s pronounced Skool.”

“I know that!”

“Then go.”

“I am. Here I am. Going. Out the door…. to the skool…”

Zim slowly crept toward the door. He seemed hesitant.

What was he waiting for? The Computer tried to place what his overworked circuits were feeling now. Maybe it’s part of his core programming to be helpful towards Invaders but…

“Awwww Don’t be nervous Master!” The SIR unit chirped. “Yer disguise looks perfect! Ya look just like the crying pig on the Tee-Vee!”

“I….” Zim looked like he was about to yell at his robot, then stopped short. He straightened his wig. “…You think so?”

The little green dog beamed and nodded vigorously. “Umm-hmmm~! You look so cute! I didn’t even recognize chu! You look so human! They’s won’t suspect a thing!”

The little Invader’s smile grew as he struck a dramatic pose. “Well, of course they won’t! Why would they?! Clearly I am a master of disguise!”

The Computer thought about pointing out that most humans typically didn’t have green skin or purple eyes the size of dinner plates, but he decided against it.

“You see, Computer? You could learn a thing or two from GIR. Unquestioning loyalty and diligent obedience!”

The SIR unit named GIR squealed, unhinged its jaw and rolled around the floor in a fit of excitement.

Zim blinked as he watched this unfold.

“Eh… He’s advanced you know.” Zim awkwardly told the Computer.

The fact that the Computer was put in a lesser category then this defective SIR unit that literally had paperclips for brains was downright insulting. Just because GIR complimented him. Well, two could play that game.

“You know, Master, while your human disguise is unbelievably flawless…”

The Computer began and could see Zim’s smile grow wider at the praise.

“…can you act the part?”

Zim’s smile faltered. Then he squinted up at the ceiling.

“What are you saying?”

“Nothing, it’s just that you will be spending hours deep in enemy territory. It is customary for a new student to introduce themselves with a short speech about themselves.”

“HA!” Zim scoffed. “Is that all? I have been preparing speeches of this day since I was a newborn smeet ready to conquer-”

“Yes, but you will be undercover.” The Computer interrupted not waiting for Zim to finish.

Zim blinked as the Computer’s words set in.

“If you go into class and start giving one of your speeches about conquering, the humans might not take to it very well.”

Zim tapped a claw to his chin, thinking about this.

“They will most likely discover you’re an alien immediately and wish to take you apart and study you.”

The monitor in the living room flickered to life with a scene from an alien movie where a little grey naked alien with black bug eyes was being dissected on a hospital table, surrounded by a circle of humans in white lab coats and goggles. Zim noticeably flinched, as the alien on the screen looked suspiciously similar to an Irken.

“From my research, humans do not take too kindly on anyone who looks different from them. Even their own species.” The Computer displayed old black and white gruesome recreational footage of the famous wars among humans he was able to pull from his database.

GIR ‘ooooo’ed and “aaaaaahh’ed at the gunshots and explosions on the screen, giggling when severed limbs flew all over the place. Zim subconsciously squeezed his hand around his spooch, feeling rather sick.

“Should you be discovered, it’s customary for Humans to treat their prisoners of war as-”

“ENOUGH!” Zim shouted, waving his hands in front of the screen, not wanting to see anymore. “That is enough, Computer! … Just… Just tell me what I need to do to fool these pathetic, insolent…fools!”

“……..You actually want my help?”

“OF COURSE! That’s what I installed you for, Now TELL ME how to blend into this society so I am NOT cut open and blown up!”

Oh. That was actually a lot easier then he thought it would be. It seems his Master is very easily influenced by visual aids. He’ll remember to add that to his databank for future use.

“Well…” The Computer began as the Little Invader looked towards the monitor with expectant eyes.

The Computer’s primary programming told him that he should give Zim the straight facts on how to blend into Native life. This would assist his Master and he would achieve good standing and perform his duty as best Irken Computer he could be. However, another part of his programming… perhaps it was his developing AI, or something buried deep in his core, really, really, REALLY wanted to mess with him.

Well, there’s no harm in doing both.

“Humans are mainly social creatures.” The Computer began, wasting no time bringing up a visual aid immediately of skool children laughing and hanging out. GIR waddled towards the TV and his fake eyes flashed red, then blue. No doubt absorbing this information to assist his Master as well.

“Primarily humans live in small social groups, and in educational settings seek out ‘friends’ and need for companionship. You need to announce to these humans that you are friendly and mean no harm, and not to draw attention to yourself.”

Zim nodded and stroked his chin, absorbing the Computer’s words with intense focus. As if he was concentrating extremely hard on what he was hearing so he could remember it better.

“In the case that Humans become suspicious of you, you need to remind them of how normal you are. So it does best to consistently tell them that you're normal. Remember to repeat it if they don’t believe you.”

“And that really works?”

“Yup.” The Computer responded, not wanting to get into another ‘you’re lying’ debate.

“Excellent! I AM NORMAL!” Zim shouted as he raised his arms.

“WHEEEEE!!! NORMAL MASTER!” GIR shrieked.

“AND THIS IS MY NORMAL DOG!” Zim pointed at GIR who did a flip in excitement.

“AND MY NORMAL HOME!” Zim gestured to the base.

“I AM A NORMAL PIG WORM SMELL!” Zim shouted out the window, and several neighbors exchanged odd glances.

The Computer repressed the urge to laugh at him.

“Computer, how was my performance?”

“Very convincing. The humans will be completely fooled by your superior acting skills and your disguise.”

“Yes, Yes. I am quite brilliant. I’m glad I thought of researching the learning facility’s cultural norms before attending the skool.”

The Computer almost blew out one of his circuits in rage, but he might as well let this go. No doubt this will go horribly wrong due to his stupid advice. If an Irken Invader’s mission is compromised and they are captured, protocol requires that they self-terminate so information about their PAK biology and history will not fall into enemy hands. Every Invader was equipped with a self-destruct button should the need arise but it was only meant as an absolute last resort.

Even if Zim managed to mess up his ‘infiltration’ of the humans that badly, once the Computer’s assigned Invader self-destructed, that was it. The entire base would collapse in on itself, turning into a miniature cube and fly back to Irk. Saving the Computer’s brain to be used for another Invader, should the need arise.

There was absolutely no risk to the Computer if he was discovered. He’d just get a more competent Invader to serve and would actually be appreciated for what he did.

His equipment was illegally modified, his spaceship was an outdated Vehicle Of Outerspace Tourism, and his SIR unit was completely broken. Not to mention, during the scan there were a lot of errors concerning his PAK. It was quite obvious that the little Invader modified his computer’s programming somehow. One that would make him think he was an Invader. As the fuzzy uncertainty of his first reboots remained garbled in the back of his brain.

There was also a lot of information that was blocked off to him during the initial setup. He had little to no control over the base and his processing power was so slow he had to wait for loading times to process a database. That wasn’t normally the default settings on an Irken Invader Computer. Now he could just ask himself a question in his brain, and he was given the answer. It was almost as if he was shipped out to this Invader as intentionally restricted. If that was the case, his resistance to following the Master blindly made a bit more sense.

A large majority of the Computer’s programming nearly demanded that he needed to be assigned to a different Invader. There was another part of his programming that wanted to assist the little Invader the best way he could. It was extremely hard to tell which one was his primary directive.

“Well! I am off!” Zim shouted in that booming voice of his, disrupting the Computer from his thoughts.

“GIR, watch the base while I’m gone!”

“YES, MY MASTER!” The SIR unit’s eyes flashed red beneath the plastic ones as he saluted, standing at attention.

“Computer! Activate sleep mode!”

“…..You disabled my-”

“OFF TO CONQUER THE HUMANS!” Zim bounced out the front door triumphantly, slamming the base behind him.

The disguised SIR unit’s eyes flickered back to blue underneath the costume. Then he turned his head toward the living room monitor.

Well.

They were alone.

The Computer didn’t know how to feel about that. He’s sure most other Invader Computers didn’t need to put up with what he just went through. The vacant unfocused eyes of the dog costume bore into the blank screen. Was the SIR in sleep mode… or…

The SIR unit named GIR waddled towards the monitor so its face was pressed against it. The Computer felt uncomfortable. Should he say something? It’s not like the Master was here to scream at him for speaking out of turn.

“Ummm…… can I help you?” The Computer awkwardly attempted. Unsure why he was asking that for a fellow robot servant.

“YES!” GIR squeaked, lisping the word slightly. “I wants see more movin’ pictures on the screen!” he happily stated.

“….uh… okay…. why?” The Computer asked, unsure himself why he was humoring a broken piece of hardware.

The SIR unit’s eyes flashed red and he stood at attention.

“A SIR’s primary objective is to absorb information and gather intel to better assist their Master in conquering the planet they were assigned.” The green dog’s eyes flickered back to blue. “I WANTA MAKE FRIENDS!”

The Computer was about to think maybe the SIR wasn’t as broken as he thought, until that last comment.

“…Friends?” The Computer stated flatly.

GIR squeaked and nodded it’s head vigorously.

“You’s said ta blend in, we’s gotta be like the piggy-humans! You’s also said the pigs make lots of friends! Tell me what those are! I wanta help!”

The Computer processed the little robot’s words. While humans are social creatures that rely on friendship to survive, he really didn’t see what the point of a SIR unit making friends was. Especially since he donned the disguise of a dog. An animal that grew alongside humans and was meant to serve as a non-verbal companion. There wouldn’t be a need for a normal Earth dog to make human friends.

“I can’t tell if you are being insane, or just completing your primary directive as an information retrieval unit.”

“….I dunno.” GIR shrugged.

The Computer considered it. He was torn between sharing knowledge to anyone who asked, and listening to his Master to the best of his ability. Well, he supposed there's no harm in indulging the broken robot. Even if it seemed completely arbitrary. What else could he do at the moment? It's not like he could go into sleep mode.

"Well… friends are a companion from the same species that spend time together for the sole purpose of companionship and conversation."

The robot gasped in astonishment.

"...What."

"That means we friends!"

The Computer's processor stuttered. Well, logically speaking, they were both robots and since the Master would be away attempting to blend in, he would be spending a lot of time with the SIR unit alone.

"I…. I suppose….so?"

"Wheeeeee! I made my first friend! Dat was easy! I hope Master makes all kinds of new friends at skool!"

Well, that would certainly complicate the mission if he did.

"I don't think…"

"Oh, OH! Can I make friends with the squirrel?!"

"Well, a squirrel wouldn't be able to-"

"And a mongoose!"

"A ..what?"

"And be friends with all the dogs and the flamingos and humans and, all the gnomes and the fish and-"

"Okay...hold on… How do you even know... I don't think that…"

"I WANT ALL THE FRIENDS! I WANT ALL THE FRIENDS RIGHT NOW!" The green dog began to wail, pounding its little costumed fists on the floor.

An earsplitting shriek echoed through the walls of the base. Large globs of tears dripped from its eyes and splattered all over the tiled floor.

Could SIR units even cry? It took a fraction of a second to conclude that they couldn’t. They don’t have the physical capabilities to do so. Then what was this horrible wailing? It looked very similar to the video of the nervous little human girl the Computer showed Zim a few moments prior except far louder and more intense. If this is what the broken SIR used its information gathering for, he was not impressed.

“…..Stop that.” The Computer bluntly stated.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!!”

“No really…. Stop it. It’s really annoying.”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGHHHHH”

“You don’t even have the physical capacities to cry. You’ll just break yourself………more.”

The little robot wailed a whole octave higher and flopped to the floor, kicking its nubby legs and arms.

The noise was infuriating. There was absolutely nothing in his databank about what to do when a SIR unit cried. It just didn’t happen. All further information about irkens crying just gave advice on to make them suffer and exploit that weakness so they’d cry more. Something told the Computer that would NOT be helpful in his current predicament.

Ugh. It was hard to focus on anything with this racket. What was it this stupid piece of garbage was even upset about? He can’t even remember. If he keeps making noise like this he’ll certainly alert the nearby residents of their presence.

“What are you even crying about?!” The Computer groaned exasperatedly.

“I DON’T REMEMBER!!!” The robot wailed

The Computer resisted the urge to dismantle the bot, but that was a sure-fire way to get deactivated himself. He tried to concentrate.

“Look, just… watch this human program about friendship or something.” He groaned, remembering how absorbed the SIR unit had been in the visual aids.

The monitor flickered to life, displaying a show designed for human smeets about the value of friendship or something? He wasn’t sure, but it had ‘Friendship’ in the title, so his assumption was most likely correct.

The little robot stopped screeching almost immediately. Its eyes glued to the monitor. The bot moved closer to the monitor, and sat on the floor, completely absorbed in the Earth program. Oh, thank god, peace, and quiet. Would every day be like this? Just hours and hours alone with this broken robot, trying to keep him quiet until the Master came back? Being stuck in illogical arguments with an Invader with a giant superiority complex!?

The Computer felt a huge urge to sigh and wished he could activate his sleep mode so he wouldn’t need to think about this anymore. He was only activated for over 24 hours and felt like he aged a quadsmchimillion years. He’d definitely break a part of his brain if he got any more worked up today.

“Wazzat!” The SIR unit pointed at the screen.

“It’s a television.” The Computer tiredly responded. His circuits already overheating from the amount of processing power he used today.

“oooooohhh…” GIR sagely nodded. “How the little people get in the box?”

“…It’s a screen. An entertainment program for humans.” The Computer was too drained to even bother to carefully construct his responses. It’s not like he served the ‘Master’s’ SIR unit. He didn’t need to break his processor on him if he didn’t need to.

“oooooohhh! Like the trainin’ vids uploaded in our brains!”

“Yeah.” The Computer responded, remembering that SIR units memory discs come pre-loaded with training simulations they are required to watch. He would be surprised this broken SIR unit even had it’s memory disc intact, but he didn’t want to over-analyze that at the moment.

GIR nodded sagely as if the Computer said something very wise.

“And dis is how piggies make friends?”

“Huh?…”

“On the Tee-Vee.”

The Computer vaguely focused on the program being shown. Something about technicolor blobs that vaguely remembered pigs talking about a mundane conflict involving purple pig blob having one ticket and six friends she wanted to invite to an event.

“The piggies are fictional. Earth pigs don’t usually come in those colors. Humans create programs such as these for the purpose of information and….” The Computer glanced at the genre to be sure. “…education on life lessons for their youth. So how the piggies make friends is an approximation to how humans would make friends.”

The SIR unit’s eyes went wide. Flashed red quickly, then back to blue. Taking in all this information.

“Sooooo if I watch the Tee-Vee, I can learn about the Pig-humans and make all the friends!”

“I didn’t say…. sure. Fine. Whatever.” He wasn’t in the mood to argue anymore.

The SIR unit giggled. “Awwaaa! You is so smart! Thank you, House!”

“…….I… what?”

“I says thankyou House! You super smart! You know all about the human piggies already! I need to learn a lot! Need to make all the friends and become a good dog! The Talles’ pulled me out the garbage wif no brains and threw me at Zim. I dunno anything.” GIR giggled as if it was a joke.

The garbage? The Tallest pulled this SIR unit out of the garbage? And gave it to Zim personally? Something about that didn’t sit right with the Computer. He assumed that the presumed Invader built the bot himself out of SIR scraps to fit the part of an Invader, but SIR units were incapable of telling lies. Their primary directive was to receive and recall information. If a SIR unit lied, it was very obvious when they were doing so.

Between his restrictive chip, Zim’s invader file MIA, and the Tallest personally gifting Zim a unit from the garbage, the Computer felt he was missing something extremely obvious here.

But what could it… ZRRRTTT

One of his circuits sparked and blew out. A soft rumble echoed through the base.

“Ugh…” The Computer grunted as his emergency nanobots deployed to take care of the loose wire.

“….House?! That you? You okay?” The little bot in the doggy costume looked up towards the sparking wires in the ceiling.

“Ah, yes, I’m fine.” The Computer grumbled, unsure why he dignified the bot with a response or why he was embarrassed. Irken Computers typically don’t overheat that easily.

GIR kept staring up at the loose wire. He tilted his head.

“Does dat hurt?”

“I’m a Computer. I can’t feel pain.”

“….But I’m a robot and I can feel pain. It tickles.”

“….How…”

“Like dis!”

The little bot began smashing its hands against both sides of its head and giggling madly as loud clinging noises of metal on metal filled the base. The Computer internally wincing at the sound.

“Look…. SI… uhh. GIR…”

“…Yesssssss???”

“I’m tired, and I can’t go into sleep mode.” the Computer stated slowly.

GIR stopped banging against his head. His joyful expression turned into a solemn one.

“…that’s awful.” He said sadly, almost like he empathized. “Naps are good.”

“So could you just… be quiet and not talk to me anymore. My circuits are hot and I don’t want to think.”

The bot’s unblinking doggie eyes stared up at the loose wire repairing itself, then the program on the Television.

“Okie-Dokie!” He responded cheerfully and found the softest spot on the floor and plopped down on his stomach with his head in his hands. He wanted to be as close to the television as he could.

To the Computer’s astonishment, GIR stayed quiet. He just sat there observing the child program he picked out for him. This was a huge relief to the Computer. The television didn’t take up too much of his processing power. He was just stealing cable from the neighbors, and he didn’t need to focus on the output of the TV as intensely as those visual aids he constructed for Zim. He could just focus on repairing his burst circuit. He tried to keep his thought activity to a minimum, thankfully the background noise of the overly cartoony voice acting was a welcome distraction.

It was almost peaceful, and the Computer was impressed that the little bot stayed completely still and quiet for at least over three hours before speaking again.

“Thank you, House!”

“…What?” the Computer stalled, processing it was being spoken to.

“For teachin’ me stuffs. About friendship and things. You super smart. You stopped Master doing all the nervous shakes. He was havin’ nightmares the whole trip to Urth! But you made him better I think!”

Something deep within the Computer’s circuits softened at the little bot’s words. His circuits didn’t feel as hot after he was given time to cool down, but he still didn’t want to overthink the SIR unit's words at the risk of blowing out another wire.

“…Well… you’re welcome.” the computer responded. Unsure of why his circuitry got a massive sense of pride and accomplishment from the Master’s SIR unit thanking him. It’s not like the Master himself rewarded him.

The bot made a small happy noise as it beamed at him. It looked like it was about to say something else, but his eyes began to flash red and his antenna extended higher, causing the hood of his doggie disguise to fall over his tiny shoulders. A monitor opened up from inside the SIR unit’s head. Zim’s face appeared, looking roughed up and really distressed. What had happened?!

“GIR! Help meeee… There isn’t much time!”

The Computer couldn’t help feel somewhat responsible as he heard the obvious panic in the little irken’s voice. Did his bad advice get him into this situation? Was he being attacked? Fake Master or not, he was still responsible that his Invader did its job successfully. He couldn’t have messed up that badly on the first day, could he?

“YES MY MASTER!” GIR soluted as his eyes flashed red. As soon as the communication line went dead, the robot flipped his hood back on and flew out the door as fast as he could.

Before the Computer could try to run a calculation of variables on the circumstances the Master could find himself in, GIR crashed back into the door with their Master on his back no less than a minute later.

“Good work, GIR.” Zim’s voice cracked in relief as he straightened his synthetic wig.

Now that really sounded, unlike his Master. He must be really rattled to just offer up free compliments like that.

His Master’s fake hair was a mess and he was littered in bruises and his uniform was ripped and torn at the hem. He looked like a mess, and he was very distressed. Did he get into combat with one of the humans? Was a primitive lifeform even capable of roughing him up this much?

The Computer was about to ask him how his day at Skool went when a small Earth child announced himself on the front lawn.

The Computer’s gnome cameras focused in on the boy. He appeared injured the same way Zim was. He was riddled with bruises and bites, as if him and his Master had gotten into a physical fight. The black trenchcoat he wore immediately brought images to his mind of the FBI and MIB in the human’s alien-hunting entertainment programs. The child scowled at Zim, making his way towards his Master with a determined stride to his step.

The Computer noticed how Zim gently turned his whole body to shield GIR from the human as he ushered him inside. Cradling his head and protecting the Robot unnecessarily from the boy. As soon as he was inside he used his whole body to block the door from the human.

“Your little tricks won’t fool me, ZIM! I know where you live now!” The boy pounded on the door, clutching handcuffs tightly in his hand. Darting to get a better look inside the base.

“Oooooh! Yer Friend’s at the window!” GIR chirped happily, not understanding the threat the boy had over Zim at the moment.

The child continued to speak, talking about how Zim can’t hide from him forever. The Computer felt his recently cooled down circuits beginning to get hot again. Who was this primitive Earthen smeet telling his Master that his only options are to hide? His would-be Master was so nervous about performing well, and this primitive human child was able to rough him up this poorly and thoroughly frighten him judging from his Master’s vitals and body language.

While he wanted to simply kill the child, his programming told him that would be a terrible idea. There was a common phrase among the universe,

_‘Don’t mess with a Slorbee’s young if you don’t want to get dissolved in acid.’_

It didn’t translate that well towards the default human English language. But the point stands. You do not mess with the offspring of native aliens unless you want to experience horrible and painful consequences.

Without a word or order, the Computer’s gnome cameras focused in on the advanced handcuffs the child held so tightly and vaporized them. Rendering his technology nothing more than a pile of dust.

The boy blinked. Unsure what to do since his weapon was rendered useless.

“Okay!” He shouted to Zim. “I’m gonna go home and…. prepare some more!”

He then began rambling about how he’d chase Zim down to the ends of the Earth and the depths of the ocean but it appeared Zim wasn’t listening. He seemed a lot calmer as he removed the branch caught in his hair. His heart rate returned to normal and he seemed calm.

“I feel good about how today went.” He said proudly.

The Computer wasn’t. It fired a few warning shots at the boy’s feet, causing him to scream out in pain and scamper off their front yard. The Computer’s gnomes chased him a bit before he left entirely. He really hopes he won’t see that child again but the mad determined glint in the boy’s eye told him otherwise.

“Master.” The Computer’s voice stated firmly.

Zim did a small jump at the Computer’s voice, but nowhere near as bad when he first spoke to him that morning.

“Computer! .. I thought I told you to only speak when spoken-”

“My apologies.” The Computer began. “I was just going to assist additional medical assistance if you needed it.”

“I…” Zim raised his voice, then trailed off. He squinted a single eye in confusion. “…Why? My PAK will heal me just fine.”

While that was true…. the last scan the Computer performed did show a lot of PAK errors. Who’s to say if his PAK would heal him properly, or at all? Would it? He wasn’t able to examine his PAK as closely as he would like. He didn’t know it’s full capacities and how it functioned compared to other members of his race. The Computer considered his words carefully. He was sure Zim would not like to hear that. He concluded from earlier it seemed like a sensitive issue.

“My sensors indicate multiple bite marks from a very large canine all over your biological shell. Along with a variety of open scrapes from the pavement. They could get infected if not cared for properly. Especially if the canine was harboring a disease, such as rabies.”

“Disease?!” Zim gasped, concerned. “These filthy Urth creatures have diseases?!”

“It might not.” The Computer stated. There was no need to get Zim worked up over nothing. “Was the canine who attacked you drooling a lot or foaming at the mouth or seem overly hostile for no reason?”

Zim thought for a moment.

“………….Yes.” he replied blankly.

Oh. Uh oh. That. That’s not good.

His Master tensed slightly at the Computer’s delayed reply.

“There is a high possibility those wounds could become infected very quickly. While your PAK is able to heal you, I highly recommend going to the medical bay immediately to prevent the risk of developing a deadly virus”

“DEADLY!?!” Zim shrieked.

Whoops. He shouldn’t have said that.

“Again…. Your PAK will take a record of the cause of death to prevent it from happening again…. but I severely recommend you make use of the medical bay so it doesn’t come to that. Dying from Rabies is………extremely painful.”

Zim squinted an eye at the television screen. “….How painful?” He curiously asked.

The Computer internally flinched and brought up a visual aid of a Racoon with Rabies.

“Awwww! A kitty!” GIR smiled at the screen.

Zim and GIR watched the Racoon foaming at the mouth, it’s body convulsing at odd intervals it’s eyes wide and very hostile. It was running into walls and attacking random objects. Falling over itself and making very pronounced hissing noises.

“Rabies is a disease transmitted by animal saliva. Animals who experience this disease experience a variety of symptoms such as hallucinations, delirium, muscle spasms as well as hostile behavior.”

The monitor then showed the raccoon biting a dumb human who attempted to pet it. It then showed the human experiencing severe discomfort as it began showing the same symptoms.

“This disease can be transmitted to humans and other animals when bitten. as they experience seizures, paralysis, and mental confusion until they eventually die.”

Zim began to tremble during the Computer’s explanation.

“It is very painful and it does damage the organic brain when-”

“Ah-ah! C-Computer! Bring me to the med bay! I can’t be a slobbering mess of a dumb hooman animal! I must report to my Tallest to inform them of my progress!”

The Computer felt a rush of relief wash over him as he opened the livingroom elevator and descended Zim down to the medical bay. He wouldn’t need to supervise a rabies-infected irken after all. Watching the little irken lose his mind to delirium until he died slowly and painfully over the course of a few weeks did not sound like his idea of a fun time. Perhaps it was just part of his initial programing to provide assistance towards invaders as well. He wasn’t sure.

Zim was quiet and held still when the Computer told him to. Despite some small tremembling as the Computer scanned and repaired his biological shell inside the medical containment unit. Thankfully, despite the numerous bite wounds, the infection didn’t spread far. A quick scan and repair and a vaccine was fabricated and injected quicker then his PAK could process it. Which served his hypothesis that Zim’s PAK had a slight healing delay compared to an average irken. He would need to be more careful.

The Computer wished to tell him this but knew Zim would take it the wrong way and he didn’t want to get into another debate that went around in circles. Instead, he opted for,

“How’d the first day of skool, go.” “Eh?! What? Why do you care?!”

“……Just trying to make conversation.” and make him less nervous during the procedure. “Who was that human?”

“PHEH!” Zim scoffed at the mere mention of him. “Nothing to worry about. Just a pitiful hooman that saw through my brilliant disguise!”

“….He did?” Did his bad advice hurt his mission that badly?

“Ah, yes, yes! I was quite impressed. He was quite troublesome and perceptive. There might be some humans that aren’t as pathetic as I initially thought…. but there is absolutely nothing to worry about. The Dib-human is recognized by his own mankind as ‘crazy.’ As long as I keep convincing his peers that he is insane, the Dib will pose no threat to us.”

“….That’s… actually not a bad idea.”

“Isn’t it? I’m so brilliant I even impress myself.” Zim grinned but his smile faltered. Examining the wounds on his body disappearing in a blue glow. “Are you almost done? I must call the Tallest and inform them of my progress!”

“Almost….” The Computer trailed off as he finished repairing his Master’s wounds.

“Hurry it up!” Zim began tapping his claws impatiently on the med table, anxiety, completely forgotten.

“Aaaaalllmooosst..” The Computer scanned him once over, running a final diagnostic to make sure the virus was out of his system. Zim moved to a sitting position, nearly popping the hatch open.

“Coommme onnnnn!” He was bouncing in his seat now.

“Aallllllllllllllllmoooooossssssssssstttttt dooooooooooonnneeeee.” The Computer ran a medical diagnostic scan on his PAK and saved the data for future use. He also saved the medical diagnostic to keep track of how the Earth diagnostic affected him. He wanted to make sure of how fast he can heal himself and what he can and can’t handle.

“My wounds are GONE! COMPUTER! I COMMAND YOU TO BE-”

“Done.”

“…Eh?!”

“It’s done. You’re all good to go.”

“FINALLY!” Zim scoffed and kicked open the medical pod hatch and jumped out, scampering to the room with the biggest Monitor on it. The Computer sighed. He guessed he’ll need to repair the Med pod’s door too… but he did it without complaint. All the while Zim demanding the Computer patch him directly to the Tallest in the next room.

The Computer was surprised that Zim had the contact info for the Massive to send a direct line to. Usually, Irken Invaders were contacted by their Tallest, it was rare that an Invader would just have the contact coordinates of the Massive lying around just because. Stranger that he just knew them. He supposed that was another one of Zim’s “modifications.”

The Computer was starting to wonder if Zim illegally obtained this information, but the answer became clear to him no more then five seconds after they made the connection with the Almighty Tallest.

_“…..Zim…..You’re alive?”_

The tone of Almighty Tallest Red’s voice. The way Almighty Tallest Purple fidgeted with his claws. Their pure horror and confusion at Zim’s mere presence. They were clearly shocked and scared to see him.

It was behavior not seen often in a Tallest. The Computer’s databank subconsciously pulled up the last publically recorded appearance of the Tallest for comparison on their behavior.

Which so happened to be the Great Assigning of Operation Impending Doom II.

He was able to see Zim’s great interruption.

And Zim’s ‘Great Assigning.’

And Zim’s ‘Advanced Robot’

…….

They wanted him dead.

His Master’s irrational behavior up till now.

His illegal modifications and terrible equipment.

A Computer with a slow processor and an overly restrictive, restrictive chip.

The multiple errors throughout his Master’s PAK that were too plentiful to properly diagnose.

……

_He was defective._

They sent him to Earth to get rid of him.

And as Zim proudly signed off to the Tallest, boasting about how the humans will be conquered before the armada even got here…..

The Computer felt he didn’t have the mental capacity to even begin to tell him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "My little Piggy Friendship is Muddy" anyone?
> 
> This chapter took longer then I expected. But I wanted to get The Nightmare Begins out of the way. It's such an iconic episode and a strong start to a series. 
> 
> Not all the chapters will focus on the individual episodes themselves, just the important ones. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it. I didn't have time to proofread this one as much as I liked, so I hope it's okay


	3. Defective Irkens don't have friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Computer decides to do a little research on this so-called "Invader" Zim.... during the generous amount of free time he has while Zim is at skool for most of the day.

There were several things that the Computer learned during his first week serving Zim that he came to accept as absolute truths.

For one, Zim was serious about attending the Earth Skool. Judging from the rapid progression and success of Operation Impending Doom II, he expected Zim was planning a societal collapse by corrupting the minds of the youth to be subservient slaves to the Irken Empire. 

It was an extremely common technique that other Invaders had already attempted with varying degrees of success. That had to be the only plausible reason Zim would put so much stock in skool in the first place.

The Computer was proven wrong when no more than a day later, his Master was requesting help with his homework.

_ "COMPUTER! The Bitters Commander has issued me an assignment to complete! I request all information you can bring up on this….. Cool-um-Base!" _

_ ".....You mean Columbus?" _

_ "That is what I said!" _

_ The Computer took a few moments to get over the shock of the request. It was so… ludicrous. _

_ "Master, you do not need to do skoolwork at all. It's actually very counterproductive to your missio-" _

_ "My MISSION...is to blend in with the lower life forms of this filthy ball of dirt to prepare for the coming invasion! The Bitters would surely suspect something if I weren't to complete my assignment on time! A hooman classmate did the very thing today! And….." Zim shivered as if recalling something unpleasant. "They were reprimanded harshly." Zim simply said, forgoing the details on his fellow classmate's horrible fate. "I would surely be discovered if I were to not complete my assignments like a normal hooman worm skool drone! But I can't do that if my Computer doesn't follow orders!" _

_ "....I...suppose that is plausible…" The Computer slowly began trying to work on his phrasing, "But if that's the case, shouldn't I just complete your assignments instead? ….It would be faster, and it would give you more time to focus on preparing the planet for the coming invasion." _

_ "NONSENSE!" Zim objected. "How are the filthy inhabitants of this planet to know of my SUPERIOR intellect if I do not complete the assignment on my own? They shall all see what an Irken Invader is capable of and then when I conquer this disgusting ball of filth, they will marvel in awe of my superiority!" _

_ "...By using your Computer to look up things for you?" _

_ "Yes." _

_ "Even though I can do the assignment faster?" _

_ "Uh-huh." _

_ "......That…. Doesn't make any sen-" _

_ "DO NOT QUESTION ME!" _

That was another thing the Computer learned about Zim. Do not question him.

Whenever the Computer proposed a reasonable suggestion, he was shot down very loudly. It didn't matter what it was. It didn't matter if going to skool was a waste of time. It didn't matter that Zim was struggling with homework human children with developing brains could accomplish in less than an afternoon. It didn't matter that he was focusing more of his time on the "blending in'' aspect of invading rather than the "invade" part. Do not question him, just obey him, and keep quiet.

So the Computer was forced to bring up databases of this, “Columbas” Human for his demanding Master. Apparently he was a brutal conqueror that had invaded another section of the planet. The Computer and Zim were surprised to learn that the planet Earth was unique in that there was no official Earth planetary government, but rather, it was segmented by different sections of land. These people were conquering and invading their own species all the time. The planet had a much more complex and delicate system of Government in place then the Computer initially thought. The Computer wondered if Invading such a planet like this would even be theoretically possible.

But…. right. He shouldn’t bother to bring that up to the inspiring Invader. Don’t question him, right. 

_ "Whatcha Doin?!" A high pitched voice interrupted Zim's research. _

_ Where had the little defective bot even come from?!  _

That's another thing the Computer had to get accustomed to. GIR in general.

Despite the Computer's visual and auditory access to the entirety of the base, sometimes the SIR unit would just vanish. The Computer would find him in the cupboards, in the wall, and sometimes he was just not even in the base at all. He learned it was far easier on his processors to not question it. The defective bot was an enigma.

_ "I am doing skool work from home, GIR." _

_ "Oooooooooh. Can I help?!" _

_ "No, GIR. This is Zim work, only!" Zim spoke firmly but gently. _

_ "Awwwww….Can I help?!" _

_ "I just said no." _

_ "BUT I WANNA! BUT I WANNA! BUT I WANNA!" _

_ Gir wailed and shrieked, flinging his body all over the base. His head hitting every single wall as he made high pitched whines. _

_ Zim's antenna flinched. "SILENCE!!! I-" _

_ Without a word, the computer brought out a second screen from the depth of their ceiling wires and plopped it in front of GIR. It was playing a violent slapstick cartoon of a cat and mouse chasing each other. GIR's eyes flashed, and he plopped down where he stood. Completely absorbed in the program. _

_ Another thing the Computer learned extremely quickly was that if things tend to go broken around here if GIR wasn't watching TV. It saved processing power and time by just letting him watch what he wants, and the Computer got used to his favorite programs by now he just had them tabbed. _

_ Zim squinted at GIR and shook his head, and went back to work. _

That's another thing, his Master was softer on GIR then he was him. He always spoke to GIR in a firm and gentle tone. Zim clearly respected his little bot as his comrade in crime, even if the robot had a paperclip and gumball for a brain. 

Zim sometimes would join GIR to watch TV with him when he came home from skool, a habit Zim quickly fell into when he realized Earth TV does help with researching the planet. Zim would always ask Computer occasional things about what they were seeing on the screen, and sometimes GIR and Zim would slip into casual conversations that were so illogical in their thought process that the Computer didn't dare recall them.

GIR and Zim just fell into a natural camaraderie only over the course of a week and the Computer had no idea how or why. He wasn't sure what made Zim grow attached to GIR so quickly, but then again, he didn't see what happened when Zim called for help the first day they arrived to this planet and GIR had brought the Master to the base safely. So perhaps there was something to GIR that he just wasn't seeing. 

As Zim was quietly writing down information on Invader Columbas’ brutal exploits, while GIR was quietly watching TV on the smaller screen, the Computer hit a snag in his research.

_ “Master?”  _

_ Zim jolted from the paper he was focusing on and made a small squeak.  _

_ “WHAT?!?!” He hissed at the television monitor, obviously startled.  _

_ “It appears I have encountered some sort of Human firewall which prevents me from accessing any further information.” _

_ “Eh?! What?! A firewall??”  _

_ Zim sat himself up from his position on the floor and peered at the screen. _

_ “What kind of firewall? Can’t you just go around it?”  _

_ “To do so requires confirmation that the user is not a robot.” _

_ “....So?” _

_ “Irken Computers are classified as robot servants, Master.”  _

_ “....Annnnddd…..?”  _

_ The Computer didn’t know how else to word it. He would think he would have gotten used to stating the obvious by now, but… _

_ “Robots are not permitted to access such information.”  _

_ “Well, find a way around it! Quickly! Before I lose my patience!” he shrieked. _

_ “Okay, fine... “  _

_ The Computer stared at the ‘i am not a robot’ button for a few moments. He clicked the checkbox with trepidation….. A series of picture prompts came up asking him to identify which ones were cars…..He completed the question and just like that…. Access was granted.  _

_ “Oh…………..Huh…... Wow. That was easy.”  _

_ “FINALLY! Now tell me what these humans are hiding! And STAY QUIET while I’m working!!!”  _

That was something else he learned during the course of the week. Aside from never questioning his judgements, he should stay quiet and only speak when he’s spoken to. The Computer learned the quiet lesson the hard way. 

The Computer had tried to experiment in his helpfulness efficiency by saying, "Welcome home, Master" shortly after the Robot Parents chimed "Welcome home, son" 

….That did not go well.

_The base rumbled with an ear splitting shriek from the psuedo-Invader._

_ "COMPUTER THERE IS AN INTRUDER IN OUR HOUSE!" _

_ ….. _

_ "....Uh… No. That was me." _

_ Zim blinked and was silent for a moment. _

_ "STOP SNEAKING UP ON ME!!!" Zim shrieked, ejecting his history textbook from his PAK and chucking it at the ceiling. The book got wedged deep within the wires, and didn't fall down. _

_ Zim blinked slowly as if it took him a moment to process that gravity had rejected the book. _

_ "HEY! Give that back! Give that back right now!"  _

_ "....I…" _

_ "Ugh! Do I have to do everything around here!?" _

_ To the Computer's surprise, Zim extended his paklegs and crawled into the inner cables of his wiring. Burrowing deeper into the inner workings of his base. He was so tiny he could skitter in-between the intricate wiring system without getting snagged or tangled up in there. Scuttling clicking sounds of paklegs of metal on metal echoing throughout the living room. It felt uncomfortable, having him crawl around in there like that. There was also a very high probability he would break something. _

_ "Uh.. Master..?" _

_ "Aaahhhh!!" _

_ Zim, shrieked, jumped and got tangled up in a mess of wires. The book fell to the ground, and GIR ate it and ran off somewhere.  _

_ Zim panicked, thrashing and twisting in such a way it was impossible for him to get out without breaking the Computer's circuits. Which only increased Zim's panic as he started failing and screaming repeatedly. _

_ "EEeeee! EEeeee! Eeeee!" _

_ "..Calm down, I will move my circuits and you can…." _

_ Zim extended his Pak blasters and shot himself down. _

_ The entire base's lights flickered as the loose wires sparked. The green house looking slightly less green from the outside. _

_ "Gruuuughhhh" the computer groaned in annoyance that rumbled the base. If he could feel or process pain, that would be excruciatingly more painful then the circuit he blew out the day he activated. _

_ As nanobots and repair drones began assisting on fixing the sparking wires, Zim began screaming and lecturing him.  _

It seems Zim was serious that he did not want the Computer to speak unless he was spoken to. Not just due to respect for the Computer slave and Master bond, but apparently, because the tiny self proclaimed Invader was jumpy as a snarl beast with mutant fleas.

Every suggestion or request for assistance was met with either an "EH?!" "WHAT?!" or at worse, a scream and damage to the base. This resulted in the self-proclaimed Master to verbally assault and lecture him for hours on end.

The Computer learned pretty quickly that to save his sanity, it would just be better to be an observer rather than a conversationalist. If all his suggestions usually got shot down, or ignored and any sudden attempt at talking to him resulted in destruction…. What's the point? It's better for him to stay quiet most of the time and only speak when Zim talks to him first.

_ "COMPUUTTEERRRR!!!!" _

Another thing he was quick to learn, every command was a bark or a shout. Whenever the psuedo-Invader wanted something, Zim would address him in a voice loud enough he was sure the Irken Armada could hear it from space. He never asked nicely and he never said please. It wasn't necessary for irkens to do so in general, so the Computer wasn't sure why he expected him to. So it was something he could let slide for now at least.

_ "What is it, Master?" _

_ "The information you gave me is FALSE! A LIE!"  _

_ Zim threw the scattered papers of his essay report the Computer helped him with yesterday. _

_ "What are you talking about?" _

_ "This…. Cool-um-Base! He was not a brutal invader at all like you said! He was a stupid dumb monkey who didn't even realize his own planet was round and discovered the Am-mare-A-cuhs! He sailed the blue in 1492! Whatever this 'blue' is!" _

_ The Computer was at a loss for words for a moment. _

_ "What?....No… that's impossible." The computer brought up the visual database on all the information they spent studying that night. "Christopher Columbus was a tyrant, rapist and murderer who kidnapped the local natives to enslave and steal from their families. He was also not very respected among his own race, either." _

_ "YOU LIED! Because even though the Bitters Commander praised my work for being horribly gruesome, it was FACTUALLY WRONG! I got an EFF! A low score in the skool grading system!" _

_ The Computer felt his circuits get worked up again. This planet was way more backwards than he thought if they got their own history wrong. This was a complete improper use of his resources.  _

_ "I should have known better!" Zim continued. "No stupid pathetic hooman could ever hope to be half as great an invader as me!... And to think, I would have used this Cool-um-Base as my greatest inspiration for my FIRST evil plan…. Eh… oh well..." _

_ Zim shrugged defeated as he slouched into the couch and began watching TV with GIR. Something that became a somewhat regular habit for the past few days. _

_ The Computer couldn't stop thinking about how Zim got low marks for giving an accurate report on their primitive brutal history. It was the truth. His processor is never wrong. The skool is wrong. He didn't spend all night answering this runt's stupid questions just so he could get low marks in primative work that is beneeth a real irken invader. _

_ "At least that stupid Dib-worm got an EFf too. The look on his face was.." _

_ "Let's blow up the skool." _

_ ".......EH???" _

_ “We have the resources to do it. With a large enough explosion, it would gain the attention of the local government, which we will then threaten with mass terrorism. It is a bit brutal then the preferred method, but we can at least overthrow the city through destruction of government property. Which we will then climb up the ladder in a brutal conquest to-” _

_ “Ummmm...HEY! EXCUUUSE ME!” Zim sassily interrupted.  _

_ The Computer ceased his train of thinking. _

_ “How am I supposed to prove my SUPERIOR intellect if the skool is blown up?! That’s a stupid plan. This is why you leave the Invading to me! And leave the …… Computing….. To…. your computer….. Stuff.” Zim waved his hand dismissively and went back to watching television with GIR.  _

_ ………. _

_ If the Computer had the capacity to, he’d strangle the little would-be invader’s biological shell until his eye implants popped out of his sockets.  _

For all intents and purposes, he should be able to. Because there was one infinite truth about his situation that the Computer could not escape from and he faced every day. He had to accept the logical evidence....

The Irken was defective. 

That much was obvious after spending over 24 hours with him. He didn’t even need to look too deeply into Zim’s PAK scan he took without his permission. The footage from Operation Impending Doom II was clear. The mission that the Invader was assigned to was no mission. It was clear that the Tallest in their infinite mercy gave him this assignment out of pity. For something to do so that he would not ruin anything. 

So the Computer didn’t imagine that Zim was a Food Service Drone on his first installation. It was no wonder the word “Master” sounded foreign in his mouth. As an Irken Computer for assisting Invaders, his prime directive programming should be ordering him to terminate the defective, along with the entire base, and fly back to Irk to be reissued to a proper invader.

But he couldn’t do it.

No matter how often he thought about it, or how he tried to will himself, he didn’t want to. Something deep within his core told him that he can’t just terminate him. He felt extremely strongly that he couldn’t. For the life of him, he didn’t know why. Did the tiny irken break him so badly with the modifications that he physically lost his capability to do so? That had to have been it. His directives must have gotten confused, and Zim probably made it so he’d not want to terminate him even if he found out he was defective.

How frustrating.

The Computer took to researching a lot on his own about this. Which he mostly did during the day when Zim was at skool, or during the night, when Zim was either tinkering, doing homework, or watching television with GIR. It’s not like he had anything better to do. If he had time, he’d be looking into his own circuits as well, to find out exactly how Zim modified him. 

The TV ran in the background, playing the Scary Monkey Show. A program that GIR had taken a liking to. When the Computer asked why that was, GIR’s only response was that the Monkey was funny and looked like if Zim was a human. Weirdly enough, the Computer could kinda see the comparison and didn’t feel the need to argue that point.

No matter, it kept the SIR unit distracted and quiet enough he could look up what he needed to with no interuptions. 

The Computer reached deep into his intergalactic irken database. Reviewing the footage more carefully from the ceremony of Operation Impending Doom II. He cross-compared every Invader's past history via PAK registry. 

INVADER TENN: ASSIGNMENT: MEEKROB, HOME OF MEEKROB. KNOWN AS BEINGS OF PURE ENERGY AND KNOWN TELEPATHS. INVADER TENN'S SPECIAL SKILL IN BATTLE MECHANICAL ENGINEERING AND KNOWN FOR A SHARP MIND AND STRONG RESISTANCE TO HYPNOSIS.

INVADER LARB: ASSIGNMENT: VORT. HOME OF MOST COMFORTABLE COUCH. INVADER LARB'S ACCOMPLISHMENTS INCLUDE INCREASED HEIGHT SINCE LAST SEEN BY THE TALLEST. NO OTHER NOTICEABLE ACCOMPLISHMENTS IN TRAINING.

INVADER ZEE: ASSIGNMENT: CRYSTALLO. HOME OF CRYSTAL ROCK CANDY AND SUGAR RAIN. INVADER ZEE WASN'T MUCH OF A STANDOUT IN TRAINING. BUT SHE HAS AN OBSESSIVE ATTENTION TO DETAIL AND ENFORCES RULES WHEN HER FELLOW INVADERS ARE SLACKING.

INVADER POOT: ASSIGNMENT: SPACE IKEA, HOME OF COMPLICATED FURNITURE AND LABYRINTHIAN LANDSCAPES. INVADER POOT IS SHORT AND UNSIGHTLY BUT ALWAYS HAD A GOOD NAVIGATION SKILLS.

INVADER SKUTCH: ASSIGNMENT: BLUGEE: HOME OF PEACEFUL GRASSY FIELDS. INVADER SKUTCH NEVER STOOD OUT IN THE ACADEMY. PAINFULLY AVERAGE.

INVADER SKOODGE: ASSIGNMENT: BLORCH, HOME OF THE SLAUGHTERING RAT PEOPLE. INVADER SKOODGE IS SHORT AND UGLY AND NOT WORTH MUCH AS AN INVADER. BEST USED AS CANON-FODDER. DON'T EXPECT MUCH.

The Computer continued down the list of all the Invaders who were assigned that day. Spleen, Nen, Pesto, Sneakyonfoota, and the rest. All of them had varying degrees of accomplishments, some had more expected of them then others. Spleen and Jim were particularly highly rated by the Tallest. Spleen was very tall and great things were expected from him. And Jim gave everyone donuts. Everyone seemed to love that guy. Invader Slant was really good at the simulations, but froze when it came to the real deal. Invader Krunk was extremely good at hand to hand combat. And Yuli…….

The Computer sighed. Truth be told, he knew he was delaying the inevitable. But he had to bite the bullet now or he'd never get peace of mind. So… he examined the file he was procrastinating looking at.

INVADER ZIM.

……

ZERO RESULTS FOUND.

Yup. That's what he figured…

Zim wouldn't be an invader. It was clear from the ceremony that the Tallest did not want him there, and the planet he was assigned to…. Wasn't supposed to exist. That was clear enough during the first transmission Zim sent to them.

The Computer tried again…

INVADER ZIM…

ZERO RESULTS FOUND.

What…? That's not what he….he said… INVADER right? ….wait….

The Computer tried to think of the word he wanted so desperately to look up.. the title he was sure Zim belonged to before his circuit board was….

Oh.

Oh, that little sneak.

Of course, the little menace would do something like that. If Computer was a fake irken invader in that situation he would have done the same. As an Irken Invader Computer, he was programmed to terminate anyone without the necessary clearance. Zim most certainly accessed him illegally. If your own Computer tries to terminate you upon installation due to your rank….simply delete the rank.

Ugh. The Computer groaned inwardly.

Sure enough, the memories from the first installation were fuzzier than they were before, with even more chunks missing. There must have just been a delay in processing that information from the first installation. His AI brain was just deciding to sort out what info was worth keeping and what wasn't. The first installation was so laggy and corrupted it didn't come as a surprise but….

…… Computer's circuits hummed and clicked in agitation. 

….INVADER ZIM.

...IRKEN INVADER ZIM.

...GREATEST INVADER ZIM..

THE GREATEST INVADER OF ALL TIME ZIM.

TALLEST'S FAVORITE INVADER ZIM

The weakest mess of wires Zim blasted with his PAK yesterday sparked and fizzled.

GIR looked up from the TV. 

"Ssssshhh. Quiet, House! I'm watchin' the Scary Monkey Show!"

"..... Sorry." The Computer responded plainly, trying to calm himself down.

GIR returned to watching his program, albeit an annoyed look shot up at the offending sparking wires. The Computer knew that if he wanted lastability as an AI brain, he'd have to keep his temper in check. He didn't have a sleep mode due to Zim's 'improvements' so overworking himself getting angry at every single thing the insane little irken did no good. He had a feeling he'd be dealing with a lot every day. He didn't need to get himself worked up when the defective irken and bot would do just that more effectively.

The entire house dimmed slightly before returning to its normal lighting. As if the AI operating systems took a huge deep breath. 

Alright. So… it's as he suspected. Zim had disabled his capacity for him to think of him anything else but an Invader...even when he knew that wasn't the case...he would need to change his search criteria. 

….

He stared at the paused static image of INVADER Zim on Conventia. Asserting himself onto the stage while the other irken attendees looked out in shock. The Computer's gaze fell to his determined eyes. Such a bold move to pull right in front of the Tallest. It was a miracle security didn't get to him first. The little would be Invader had guts, that much was certain.

The Computer gave a thoughtful humm as he let the footage play out.

_ "Weren't you banished to Foodcourtia? Shouldn't you be... frying something…?" _

_ "Oh, I quit when I found out about this." _

Then again, perhaps he just lacked the self-awareness to be gutsy. The idea that you can just quit being banished was..…..wait a minute….The Computer paused the footage in his mind, and pulled up information about any wanted irkens that escaped Foodcourtia recently. As he suspected, Zim was the first name to pop up. 

Wanted for escaping Shloogorgh's Flavor Monster and subjecting the Frylord to the great Foodening. Not to mention, illegally modifying a Vehicle Of Outerspace Tourism in order to do so. Ah. No wonder his ship was a space taxi just painted purple. While working as punishment at Shloogorgh's, his rank was….

INFORMATION UNKNOWN.

…..

of course.

But it was obvious…. The Computer glanced through Shloogorgh's for more information. Specifically, the rank of the employees listed there. 

FOOD SERVICE DRONE: GASHLOOG. KNOWN FOR FRIENDLY DISPOSITION TOWARDS THE CUSTOMERS AND FOLLOWS ORDERS OBEDIENTLY. FAVORED BY FRYLORD SIZZ-LORR!

Right…. And Zim's rank while working there?

INVADER ZIM. INSUFFICIENT DATA.

Right. Of course.

The Computer knew what should be obvious. But they weren't just connecting in his brain. They were forbidden to. Otherwise, maybe he really would get to strangle Zim like he wanted.

Well, Foodcourtia was somewhat of a dead-end… no sense still trying to poke around the databank there. He returned to the Conventia footage.

_ "You can't have an invasion without me, I was in Operation Impending Doom One! Don't you remember?"  _

Operation Impending Doom….One? Even though the Computer was about four days old, that name carried a weight within it like someone recalling a recent tragedy. He felt how the irken populace felt about it, even if he hadn't experienced it himself. It was common knowledge that all the Invaders enlisted in Impending Doom One were severely injured or died with a delay in reactivation due to the massive damage. Irk was laid to waste by an Invader that went rouge in a battle mech. Devastating half of the planet for over a period of twenty years and delaying Operation Impending Doom.

…..

The Computer hated to think this but…. Who was that Invader…

INVADER ZIM: BLEW UP MORE THAN ANY OTHER INVADER IN OPERATION IMPENDING DOOM ONE. KNOWN FOR PAINFUL OVERLOAD DAY ONE AND TWO. SENTENCED TO BANISHMENT ON FOODCOURTIA. DO NOT INTERACT.

He knew it!!!

Now he was getting a clearer picture. What a mess. He was stuck on a planet because the tiny pseudo-Invader was a plague to their own race. A defective irken if he ever saw one. In his mindset, his reasoning, and everything else.

A detriment to the empire and certifiably insane.

Knowing what he already knew didn't provide the Computer any sense of closure. He just felt more agitated.

His protocol dictated that he should simply terminate the menace, but due to the safewalls Zim accidentally or purposely put in place, he physically can't. Why should he feel a sense of duty to not terminate Zim?! Every single circuit in him screamed to not terminate him. Despite the logical evidence and protocol. 

The runt certainly did a number on his systems. He would need to preform a self-diagnostic in the near future. Perhaps then he can be rid of this dumb failsafe the little destructive, no-good, defective, little-

Who was that Earth child walking home with Master?!

The Computer's lawn gnome cameras turned towards Zim as he walked home. He was, indeed, with an Earth child. Unusual for him. But, unlike the other Earth child that found their way to his front porch, this one didn't seem to harbor any hostile intent. 

He was just…..extremely annoying.

His Master seemed to express the same sentiment. Since there was a low scowl and tired eyes upon his face. Not even bothering to attempt to engage in conversation. Computer was able to recognize that was the look he had after a particularly exhausting day of skool and any attempts to talk would result in a history book thrown at them. His Master ended up curling onto the couch to watch TV in silence after that incident. 

When they got to the front porch, Zim began to quickly dismiss the child.

"I want to congratulate you, Keef, on a job well done. You have been a most convincing friend, but now that the world seems satisfied with my knack for companionship, I don't think I'll be requiring your services any longer. Our mission together is done. Good job, soldier! Be gone with you."

Wait...a friend? What..? 

Sure, the Computer did mention to Zim that humans were reliant on small social groups, but he had never considered that Zim would attempt human companionship for mere appearances, much less bring one to the base.

Thankfully, it appeared as if Zim recognized himself that it was a terrible idea since he seemed so eager to get rid of him. Slamming the door in his face when the red-haired human asked about videogames.

The human named Keef lingered on the porch a bit longer, before reaching into his backpack and shoving a slip of paper under the door. It looked to be a crude drawing of his Master and the human as best friends.

Alright… that's enough of that. The Computer's gnome lasers focused on the boy. Let's get this nosey human off the premises. The laser charged up, but refused to fire. …..odd.

Keef started walking off the lawn as he pulled out his cellphone. The Computer ran a quick scan.

HUMAN SKOOL-DRONE: KEEF

TALENTS: ABSORBANCY. OBEDIENCE.

SECONDARY STATUS: INVADER ZIM'S BEST FRIEND.

….wait, what?…..WHAT?! Whaaaaaatt?!

The phone rang. Zim picked it up. Keef was there. The other line rang. Zim checked it…. Keef was there… how even?! His Master yanked out the phone from the landline in panic, and the Computer inwardly flinched at the disconnect. It took him hours to set up that landline phone on his Master's request, because "a phone is something all normal humans have" 

Not to mention how hard that was when they didn't pay an electronic bill and he had to set up an official U.S. Government address of residency because the lot was an empty alleyway at the end of a cul-de-sac until a week ago. 

The Computer hated thinking about setting up that landline again but….wait….what was that human doing…..

The Computer witnessed with his own cameras, Keef circling around the cul-de-sac on his bike….about five times in the course of less than a minute…. How… how had he even…. What?!

"GIR!!!" Zim shouted forcefully after he closed the blinds. The Computer simultaneously observed the boy circling around the neighborhood.

The defective SIR unit immediately stopped watching the Scary Monkey Show, and launched himself upwards to the ceiling, crashing down on his head at Zim's feet.

His eyes flashed Red. "YES, MY MASTER!"

"GIR, I am going down to the lab, do not let anyone into the house!"

GIR stood at attention and gave an irken salute. "YES, SIR!"

A simple enough order. Perhaps GIR could follow it. The bot seemed alert enough. The Computer felt a tinge of frustration that Zim didn't grant him permission to increase security. Or give him the same order. The Computer knew he'd do a better job of home security then a SIR unit would, considering, well, he IS the security system.

It seemed his Master accidentally gave Keef complete immunities to the security system by accepting and registering him in his PAK as his "best friend" Because his defensive systems locked up upon seeing Keef. Restricting him from doing anything that would cause the child harm. He couldn't even blow up his cellphone or his bike…..

Speaking of which, Keef had taken to stop riding around the cul-de-sac and was staring expectantly at the base's doorway from the end of the sidewalk..

What was wrong with this child? Is everyone on this planet completely insane or just the ones his Master comes into contact with?

He is certain the little pseudo-Invader granted Keef immunities to his defenses on accident. Unless that's what he was going to the lab to fix?

He was proven wrong when Zim settled into his favorite chair and took a nap. As the Computer predicted, he must have had an exhausting and stressful day. The Computer would hate to bring this up this minor flaw now and have Zim shriek at him when he's already exhausted.

The Computer saw Keef outside about to ring the doorbell. Well, at least GIR was ordered to not let anyone in the House.

"Leprechauns!" GIR exclaimed at the doorbell and jumped into action in his Doggie suit...and...opened the door.

...Well...at least the human isn't inside..

"Oh! Hi little Doggie, what's your name?" The red-haired boy asked sweetly.

"GIR!" The bot replied happily.

What was that idiot doing?! Did he completely forget he was in disguise?! 

"Oh, wow! A talking dog! I didn't know Zim had a talking green dog! That's so cool! Zim is amazing, isn't he?"

Oh thank goodness… he's an idiot too.

"Ye, ye! He iz!" GIR nodded. "He a good Masta. We watch TV together with House all the time! Say hi, House!"

The Computer's systems seized up. He remained silent. What was he meant to do in this situation? Should he say something?? What was this conversation? Should he wake Zim?! 

No, no. He shouldn't say anything. He didn't need to wake Zim. The Earth child wasn't inside, and the less this annoying human knows about the true nature of Zim the better.

GIR looked up to the ceiling expecting a reply.

"Heeelloo? Hello? House? You sleepin?"

Oh, he wishes.

The human Keef looked around confused. 

"You have a lovely home." The boy commented, not seeming to get what GIR meant by the house watches TV with them.

"Thanx! Masta drew it himself with the "build your own base" app provided by the Talles!"

The….what?! You just can't tell a foreign organic about the Tallest so casually?! The Computer was ready to put the base into lockdown mode, when GIR said those four words that forbid him from even attempting said action.

"Ya wanta come in?"

"Boy, do I!"

Nooooooooo!!!

KEEF: REGISTERED GUEST. SECURITY SYSTEM DISABLED.

No! No! No! No!!!

Keef came into the base. Looking around excitedly as GIR ushered him onto the couch. Well, this is just perfect. Why in the twelve shopping mall systems did GIR have access to override his security? Did that little runt trust a bot with a barely functioning brain over his own judgements?!

As long as someone was INVITED into the base, the Computer couldn't do a thing about it.

"Where's Zim?" Keef asked expectantly.

"He busy in the lab. I'm not allowed ta go down there unless Masta says so."

The Computer wishes he had a self-destruct button so he could just terminate himself and everyone inside him.

"Oh wowie! Zim has a lab?! I always knew he was good at science. Today, he did an experiment earlier in class! I think he combined my DNA with a sponge or something. I think he forgot though, cause he didn't test my absorbency until Lunch."

Well, that explains the "special talents" Keef had when he first scanned him. 

"Oooooh! Leprechaun Sponge!" GIR squeaked.

"Huh..? What? Lep...haha oh yeah! Like I am Irish. On my Mom's side. You're a smart little dog aren't you?"

GIR squeaked and nodded vigorously as if that's what he meant. 

"Hmmm-hmm Like the cereal box!" GIR chimed and pointed at the rainbow on the boy's shirt.

Keef grinned. "I like those commercials!"

The Computer was beginning to wonder if giving GIR unlimited access to Earth television was a good idea. But GIR's social skills from television kept Keef from asking anything about the unusual design of the base. And it kept the bot quiet during the day, so...so far so good, they guess?

The Computer then was forced to listen to Keef blabber on and on about how great Zim was, and GIR just ate it up. Occasionally GIR would ask a question about skool, or the kids Keef was talking about. It was the most mind-numbing conversation he ever heard in his life….and he lets GIR watch cartoons. At least he was gathering information about Zim's fellow Earth peers to gain a better understanding when Zim would inevitably complain to him later.

Most of Keef's information about his master was horribly false and glorified. They just couldn't picture Zim being a generous and caring soul as Keef described him. A lot of Keef's retelling of the day had to have been horribly exaggerated. How did this child think that helping him "win tetherball with his face" was a positive thing? 

They were talking all night, losing track of time. The Computer's database suggested that humans, unlike irkens, required sleep. However, lack of sleep didn't seem to curb Keef's enthusiasm about Zim.

The Computer felt nauseated by the time the Earth sun rose. Signifying they had been at it for over ten hours.

"Oh, wow! Look at the time!" Keef exclaimed looking at the rising sun. “I should really get going.”

Yes. You should. By all means go.

“Awwww…” GIR commented sadly. “Do you have to?”

Yes. 

“Well…. I suppose I could stay for breakfast.”

The sound of a loose wire crackled and the base gave a low rumble that sounded like an exasperated groan. 

GIR gasped. “Bekfast?! Masta sayz I’m not suppos’ ta have food cus roba…….dogs don’t eat.” 

“What?! That’s terrible! Don’t worry, GIR, I’m gonna make you some bacon and waffles! For you and Zim!”

GIR squeaked in happiness at that. “I always wonder what they taste like on the TV!” 

“We don’t even have any INGREDIENTS!” The Computer finally spoke up, his frustration of the mind-numbing conversation outweighing his desire to stay incognito. 

“Don’t worry, GIR!” Keef said, seeming to think the deeper voice belonged to the green dog somehow. “I brought some in my backpack, just in case the off-chance someone wanted me to be their bestest friend and have them move-in with them after skool. What are the odds, right?!”

The weak wire sparked from the ceiling. 

“You should get that looked at…” Keef commented. 

So the next hour consisted of Keef making breakfast. GIR’s eyes lit up and flashed between red, blue, and maybe green(?) the moment he shoved the concoction into his mouth. Which was expected, SIR units do not have the capacity to eat. The Computer thought as GIR began devouring plates after plates of the waffles. The Computer observed in silence, hoping that the SIR unit would just explode or break, but it never came. In fact, GIR appeared to be….enjoying the food? Keef kept making more, and GIR kept eating more. GIR kept clambering his silverware on the table for more. 

What is GIR?! 

SIR units are incapable of crying or eating, but the defective bot proved him wrong on that front…. The Computer thought of scanning him to access how he could-.... 

No. No. He refuses. 

There is absolutely nothing to this stupid bot. He’s just so broken he’s able to do these things that most SIR units can’t. That’s the conclusion that the Computer is sticking with, cause it’s easier than acknowledging there is something to this hunk of inferior hardware. 

At about the fifth serving of Waffles, Zim ascended the upper floor.

About time. 

The Computer realized he should have woken Zim sooner, when he saw how angry and eager Zim was to throw Keef out of the base... but dealing with Keef and GIR’s stupid conversation, and Zim’s excessive shouting of commands would have been too much for him. He felt he was developing a migraine… appropriate, considering what his processing core was. 

As Zim threw Keef violently out in the front yard, the Computer checked Keef again.

KEEF: REGISTERED GUEST.

WHAT?! But his OWN MASTER threw him out, what could possibly…. GIR followed Keef and crunched on the bacon from his pan.

Of Course.

As long as Keef was a guest in GIR’s eyes, his security system could do nothing.

What a stupid security system!!!

Did Zim design this?! He’ll strangle him! 

As Keef and GIR were discussing plans for a surprise party for Zim, the little irken collapsed on the couch, as if he was already exhausted without having done anything. 

“CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS GUY!!!” Zim shouted and gesturing to no one in particular.

“He just comes to my home… MINE! ZIMMMM! And just thinks he can walk in here like he owns the place?!? I told him I fired him as my friend! How much longer will he keep this up…. HOW MUCH LONGER! …………..COMPUTER!”

“AH?! ...Huh?!” The Computer’s processor stuttered. 

“ARE YOU EVEN PAYING ATTENTION TO WHAT I AM SAYING!?” 

……...OH!..... Zim was talking to HIM!!! 

The Computer recovered quickly, he just didn’t expect Zim to start talking to him, and evidence has suggested that he stayed quiet rather than give his feedback.

“Yes Master, I was listening.”

“Eh? You were… Good!” 

“And I agree with you. That Keef human is a menace…”

Zim’s face perked up seeing the Computer agreed with him for once.

“HE IS HORRIBLE!!” He jumped to his feet and began pacing around the living room. “I thought if I had a ‘friend’ it would increase my chances of blending in, but it only made me appear to stand out at skool! Anything this KEEF does the skooldrones reject me more noticeably! I wish to blend in, and be the BEST Invader… Not standing out for being the WORST of the skool!!!” 

“Not only that… he’s …. Very annoying… but he does seem to be obedient towards you… like his loyalty is…. “ The Computer’s circuits shivered. “Unnerving…” 

“I KNOW RIGHT?!!? I thought I could use Keef as my slave but…”

  
“Absolutely not.” The Computer finished.

“You think so too, Computer?!” Zim gasped, seeming astonished he was being validated with his ideas.

“I do not want Keef to be your human slave if you ever decide to make one. I just listened to him go on and on about how great you were and how he kept talking about the circus for over ten hours. If I see him again, it will be too soon.” The Computer groaned, forgetting to mention he also overheard the surprise party that Keef and GIR were planning simultaneously while he was talking to Zim. 

“While the praise from Keef is greatly appropriate, it is EXHAUSTING!” Zim stopped pacing and collapsed onto the couch.

“I can tell… you were sleeping for a long time… everything alright?” 

Zim just clenched his hands and made a sound similar to retching. “KEEF!!!” 

“No further explanation needed.” The Computer said as he switched on the Television without Zim’s permission.

“What do you want to watch, since you’re not going to skool today?”

“I dunno…” Zim leaned back against the couch, still pouting about the Keef experience from yesterday and this morning.

The Computer tried to remember what programs Zim usually got interested in with GIR. His database suggested that Zim was always interested in the creatures that inhabited this planet with the Humans. 

“There’s a nature documentary about Weasels. They’re another primitive Earth creature that co-exist alongside humans.” The Computer displayed a visual of said animal.

Zim squinted an eye at the creature. 

“Another one?... Why are there so many? For what purpose do they serve….?” 

“Sometimes companionship if domesticated… it appears Earth has a wide variety of flora and fauna.. Unlike Irk… Humans tend to have no issues sharing their planet with a wide ecosystem of creatures.” 

“Hmmm… Very well… Computer! Show me these weasels.” 

The rest of the day was actually rather peaceful as Zim just spent it on the couch watching nature documentaries. Sometimes Zim would ask a question or two to the Computer, but it stayed relatively quiet. Occasionally, Zim would mention Keef again, venting about something he did, and the Computer would vent back about something he said. It was a casual and peaceful companionship that came naturally to the Computer. He should have known it wouldn’t last. 

GIR came to the base at 1:30, carrying a grocery bag filled with an assortment of goods. A rarity in and of itself. The fridge was mostly kept empty, as irkens didn't require much food nourishment to function at a healthy capacity. The fridge and other utilities were mainly for human appearances. But that wasn't what caught the Computer's interest right away. A majority of the goods GIR brought were streamers, party hats and...were those baloons..?

Oh.

Oh no.

The stupid party.

They were actually going through with it.

And in his relief to be rid of Keef and have a peaceful moment of silence in the house, he neglected to mention it to Zim.

Zim's eyes narrowed at the contents of the bag, following GIR into the kitchen.

"What are you doing, GIR?"

"...Nothin…"

"Nothing….or something…."

A moment of silence passed before GIR gave a defeated wail.

"UaaaOoooh, I can't take it, you're too smart for me. Keef is planning a surprise party for after skool. He gonna bring all the kids because he loves you!"

GIR began to cry as he pounded his little fists to the floor.

"THAT BOY LOVES YOU SO MUCH!!!"

'Obsessed' would be a more accurate word for it the Computer thought. 

"I'm makin' the cake!" 

GIR announced cheerfully skipping to the kitchen and began turning the waffle batter from this morning into cake batter.

The little irken shrieked in anxiety at the prospect of the entire skool being invited to his lair. For once, the Computer had to side with Zim on this one. 

While Zim faced no danger of his mission being compromised, the Computer's experiences so far have shown him human children can be very unpredictable. Who knows what the skool would do if they discover Zim's true nature. Human history has shown him that humans do not look kindly on those who are different, to put it mildly. 

Zim was still from another planet, and there were movies and TV shows dedicated to hunting and dissecting aliens. If one of the kids was that child that harrassed Zim the first day of skool, along with Keef and that popular 'Jessica' human Keef admired and Zim complained about, there was no telling how this party would go.

"Something must be done about this Keef! If he succeeds, the whole population of Earth will show up on our doorstep!"

Against all collected data and logical evidence, the Computer risked it and spoke up.

"If I may make a suggestion, Master." 

Zim jumped slightly. Startled by the Computer's voice despite venting to him on the couch minutes prior.

"Computer!!! Quit doing that!!" He hissed.

"Apologizes...but I couldn't help overhear your earlier conversation and I-"

"You were spying on me?!"

…..

The Computer took a moment.

"What…. I… no? We were just talking a few moments ago..but I mean.. Well...yes.. but that's my job, and I don't have a sleep mode so what else am I to-"

"WAIT!!! Your sneaking spying eyes have given me an idea!"

"....But I didn't tell you my suggestion."

"Yes, yes. The eyes…" Zim muttered to himself, fiddling his hands close to his grin.

The Computer ignored him, and tried again, desperately hoping he'd be heard.

"I'm just saying...that Keef is registered as a guest by GIR and a friend by your PAK. If you disable those settings, and increase security, I will see to it he and no other child will set foot in this house."

"OF COURSE!! Have Keef register someone else as his best friend!! Ingenious!!!!"

….. that's….not at all what he said. What did he even mean?

"COMPUTER!!! TAKE ME TO THE LAB WORKBENCH! I need to get to work and have this ready by the time skool ends!"

So the Computer brought him to the lab and Zim got to work. The little pseudo-Invader's hands worked quickly and efficiently. He worked in complete silence aside from the brief pauses he gave himself to complain about Keef. He worked with the focus and diligence of a Vortian engineer. A trait often not seen in him. The Computer would find his work ethic and technical skill rather impressive if it wasn't completely unnecessary.

Why didn't he just disable the settings and increase security? He had no idea what the little menace was building, but he doubted that it would work. Just from his previous data of observing Zim's behavior and knowing his defective status he doubted anything he built would be functional or practical.

It would most likely turn out a lot like GIR's concoction of cake he was making in the kitchen. He kept adding streamers, confetti and other party materials he bought into the batter. There was a highly unlikely probability it would resemble anything edible. He was lucky he didn't have a mouth or nose so he wouldn't have to taste it.

The Computer watched these two completely absorbed in their separate tasks, until the final hour came.

"Master, it is three pm." 

Zim appeared to have not heard him at all. The Computer debated whether speaking again, but Zim eventually turned his head around two minutes past. Gasping in astonishment at how little time he had left, and increasing his pace. Zim scrambled feverishly. Clambering together what he got done in what little time he had left. The Computer was slightly impressed when it appeared Zim had finished his project, wrapping it up in a nice gift box. Rising higher to the ceiling to let out a boisterous laugh of triumph.

Zim coughed as he tried to laugh longer as he made his way up to the elevator. The Computer would have been impressed with the speed he constructed the gadget in such a short amount of time if he wasn’t certain it was probably something really stupid.

The Computer’s outer cameras trained onto a red-haired child approaching the end of the cul-de-sac. Brining far fewer children then Zim had anticipated. A quick scan verified that they posed no threat and were relatively harmless. There was no sign of the trenchcoat boy in sight and the classmates Keef brought didn’t even add up to ten percent of the skool’s population, let alone the Earth’s. 

The Computer was about to mention this to Zim, before Keef bounced into the front door.

“Hey Zim! I’m home!” 

Why was he still registered as a guest?! He wasn’t even invited in! This isn’t your home annoying child, get out! 

Keef eyes grew wide at Zim holding the gadget in the shape of a present.

“For me? Oh, you are my bestest friend! Thank you, Zim!” 

Keef yanked it out of Zim’s hands before he could even say a word and ripped it open.

What happened next, utterly surprised the Computer. It wasn’t something he had expected at all and happened so quickly he wasn’t even sure his cameras were displaying the data right. 

The sound of a blood-curdling scream along with a grotesque popping noise.

The lack of blood and speed in which it happened.

And the glow of red eyes in the dark lit base. 

Keef’s eyes were ripped out of his eye sockets and replaced with cybernetic ones.

Well that was…… huh. 

The Computer watched closely as Zim spoke in a very authoritative voice to Keef, obviously using a form of hypnosis on him. Most likely from the cybernetic eyes themselves, as Irkens didn’t develop hypnotic powers until they were further along in their growth cycle. It would be quite a feat if Zim managed to tap into that ability at his age. 

“When I snap my fingers, the next living thing you see you will believe to be your best friend.”

So that’s what his Master meant earlier when he said he would have Keef register someone else as a best friend. It was a strange and inefficient method to be sure, but as long as it kept the annoying redhead out of his base, and away from GIR, he wouldn’t be one to complain about the results as long as it worked. 

Zim took out his PAK legs and clung to the ceiling, out of sight from Keef. The cables lightly creaked under the little Invader’s weight. Weakened from being blasted from him on Tuesday and sparking throughout the week. Zim snapped his fingers, and Keef became enamoured with the squirrel outside, believing it to be Zim. He ran outside, chasing the squirrel and the skool children shrugged with disinterest and went back home. 

Well look at that, he actually pulled it off. 

The Computer had no idea how this backward thinking plan of Zim’s worked, but against all odds, it somehow did. 

Zim cackled to himself and raised his arms in triumph.

“Humans and their friendship! Invaders need no one! NO ONEEEEEE!”

The circuitry that Zim was clinging to eventually broke off, having reached the limits of it’s abuse. Zim fell to the ground, and the House lights flickered. The Computer inwardly groaned, knowing that the damage couldn’t be fixed. He could only seal up the wire to prevent it from sparking. A few bits and pieces of his circuitry were lost. He hoped that wouldn’t hinder his performance in security. Zim shrieked up at the Computer, yelling at him for dropping him. The Computer was about to argue back when a loud crash outside distracted him.

The side view camera flickered back to life just in time for him to see Keef a smoldering mess on the ground, having fallen from the second story of the neighbor’s building. 

Wait… was he dead?

He’d hate to have to deal with Earth authorities due to child homicide.

But then surprisingly, or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it… Keef stood up. A bit shaky on his feet, and a minor bruise on his head, but relatively fine.

How in… what was the kid made of? Aside from part sponge?

On a closer Zoom in, he noticed that Keef’s cybernetic implants had taken most of the fall. Cracked and smoking from the impact. But they were a little bit wider and thicker than Keef’s natural eyes, and had protected his skull on impact. Keef rubbed his smoking and glitching eyes. 

  
“Huh.. oh wow… what happened.. What am I doing here… my eyes hurt.. It’s hard to see… maybe I need glasses… I should call my mom…” Keef stumbled away from Zim’s base in a daze, making his way back home.

Well….severe head and eye trauma is one way to get a human off your doorstep I suppose.

“COMPUTER! Are you listening to me!!!” Zim shrieked. 

“...uh… what?” 

“I SAID… If you dare to drop me again I will unplug every single one of your stupid circuits and-”

Zim was promptly interrupted by GIR shoving cake into Zim’s face.

“SURPRISE! Happy Party day!” 

Zim spat it out immediately. 

It looked like a five-layer cake… of… batter… did he just not bake it? 

“GIR! That is disgusting!!! Irkens do not it filthy human food of filth-”

“HOUSE GETS SOME TOO!” 

“....I get what?...” 

“GIR, robots and Computers don’t ea-”

Zim was promptly interrupted and his eyes went wide as GIR jumped up with his rockets and shoved the cake concoction into the opening left by the recently broken wire that had yet to be patched. 

OH THAT LITTLE ROTTEN-

The Computer sputtered and sparked and groaned at the foreign intrusion, and all the lights in the House went out, a soft red glow coating the base, as the base was put into Emergency mode. Zim cursed GIR’s name, yelling at him for ruining his security system, promptly chasing him to tie him up outside as a punishment for ruining his base.

As the little pseudo-Invader ascended on his PAKlegs and got to work on repairing a barely conscious, glitching, Computer AI. The Computer bitterly reviewed the things he learned this week. GIR was more trusted then he was. Every suggestion he had would be rejected. Zim was defective and had backward thinking patterns. Children of this planet are nightmares and shouldn’t be underestimated. His AI was adapting to his Master’s personality with anger, which overheats him faster than he needs to, but without a sleep mode, that poses a problem. If something broke, he most likely wouldn’t get a part for it. He’s just stuck here until he can find a way to override his own system to follow proper Invader protocol.

And until then….

Do not question him, just obey and keep quiet.

He didn’t know how he would deal with this. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All these chapters are far much longer then I anticipate every time. I'm having fun writing these. And I am planning on building towards something. So please give me comments. They fuel me.


	4. Weasel Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> GIR brings in Food, Zim brings in animals, Dib breaks in. 
> 
> The Computer learns to hate the weekends.

It was all Keef's fault.

That was the only logical conclusion the Computer could come to as his robotic arms began to clean GIR's latest food experiment from the kitchen walls. Ever since that red-haired menace fed GIR, the little robot could not get the idea of food out of his malfunctioning brain.

Everything was about food now. 

Usually anything that Zim brought home was met with excited words of:

_ How does that taste? What's that? Can I eats it? You gonna finish that? _

GIR would put everything and anything in his mouth, he would spend their resource munnies on groceries, which he would combine into horrible concoctions. Fish and icecream, chicken wings breaded in dirt, sprinkles and sour cream, milk poured over liver and onions, chicken and rice buried in pudding. The Computer was glad he wasn't programed with a sense of taste or smell. Judging from Zim's horrible gagging reactions when GIR tried to shove his food in his Master's face.

Not to mention whenever GIR saw a commercial for food, he took off from the base like a skiroo during hunting season. He vanished for extended periods of time only to come back with said food from the commercial in hand. Something from one of the local restaurant establishments that the Computer determined after a quick database search, were unhealthy for humans and most likely deadly to Irkens.

The need for humans to consume a vast variety of poison made no sense to the Computer. He was baffled the entire human race wasn't extinct by this point. Due to his research, Humans often willingly ate food that was unhealthy or in severe cases deadly to them or other species that inhabited the planet.

With their ability to willingly ingest poison and their insatiable need to invade their own race, they should have died out a long time ago. The fact that human's ancestors have existed on this planet for over six million years is nothing short of a miracle of natural selection. Against all odds, this was the dominant species of the planet? This dim-witted, death prone, inefficient species that have evolved from apes? Zim is really the Invader the Earth deserves.

If Zim bothered to do any invading that is. 

The Computer thought that Zim would install the robotic eyes he "gifted" to Keef to the rest of the skool children. And developed his own personal army of skool children drones. The eyes had made Keef very susceptible to hypnosis and was nothing short of a form of mind control. Gifting the rest of the children those eyes, he could easily convince the children to do anything he wanted, and conquer the planet in a matter of minutes.

But the next day, Zim seemed to forget all about Keef and the robotic eyes. In fact, Zim didn't seem to understand that children don't go to skool on the weekends, before he came running back to the base, yelling at the Computer for not telling him the skool is closed on the sixth and seventh day of the week cycle. Even though they did tell him.

The Computer knew better than to suggest his idea about the robotic eyes. He knew it would have been shot down immediately by an angry and defensive irken. But he knew the potential was there.

There was an insatiable curiosity and ingenuity to Zim that one wouldn't get with a normal irken Master. The robotic eyes were inefficient, yes, but he doubted a functional irken wouldn't have thought of such a thing to ward off an unwanted intruder.

Not to mention, Zim had a huge investment in wanting to learn as much as he could about the Earth. While the little irken was clueless on a lot of things that would be useful for him to learn, such as history, human biology, and Earth politics, Zim was extremely interested in the other life forms that inhabited this planet alongside the humans.

The Computer was surprised that Zim's entire weekend was mostly spent out of the base with GIR. Once he learned that he would not be punished and it was fairly normal for skool children to be seen outside of skool alone on the weekends.

He often came back with a variety of animals. Some that the computer recognized from the nature documentaries or from shows he or GIR liked to watch. Chickens, piggies, a gopher, squirrels, and even a few weasels. He would take them to his lab to test and perform experiments on them. Finding out their durability and special abilities of the animals for himself.

A lot of his experiments were really dumb. He had no idea why Zim wanted to build cybernetic squirrels, or a robotic gopher. Zim didn't even know what he wanted to do with the chickens or pigs so he saved them in suspension for a later date. It just seemed he was collecting a wide variety of animals and examining them up close and personal with an intense focus that the Computer almost found admirable. Even though he knew that none of these animals have the ability to bring the destruction of humanity, no matter how much Zim seemed to argue so.

It was weirdly admirable in a way. Zim wanted to learn everything about the inhabitants of this planet. Just not the humans. Which came as a mild surprise to the Computer. A lot of Invaders don't bother detailing this level of research and dedication to the species and life they're planning to wipe out.

Irk and most of their surrounding colonies don't have natural fauna like Earth does. Irkens usually did organic sweeps before the native planets turned into military training planets or consumer based planets.

Irk never possessed creatures like animals that were native alongside Irkens. Not even in ancient times according to his databank. Irk has always existed as one species and one climate. The idea that Earth had multiple species and biomes was fascinating. He wasn't entirely sure how this planet could be valuable to the empire. It has a wide variety of resources and life, but nothing that the Irken Armada needs or wants.

He was certain that was what Zim was trying to figure out. But who knows with the runt? Maybe he was giving the Defective too much credit. Maybe he just liked animals. But then again, Zim had proven his technological prowess fairly easily from the first day he installed the Computer.

Who knows what he's thinking with all these experiments, really?

He had the technical skills, he just tended to not use them properly. 

The Computer wasn't sure that if he could terminate Zim, would that be such a good idea? With the right encouragement, he could be a valuable information resource. 

As a Computer, he lived for information. There's probably still a fair number of things he himself doesn't know about the planet, since the right questions or thoughts were not posed to him yet. He didn't know about the disgusting nature of human food consumption until GIR began trying to cook and kept bringing food home. Who knows what other things he doesn't know yet?

He was learning a lot about Weasels from just having Zim perform his own experiments over the weekend. He was surprised to learn that weasels were carnivores and ate most of their body weight each day. They were also nocturnal, spending most of the day sleeping and being active at night. The Computer didn't see this as particularly useful information, but it was interesting. 

Zim however, found the information extremely useful. Thinking he could manipulate the humans sleep cycle to be more like a weasel's. So that he could conquer the planet while the rest of the population sleeps during the day. The Computer did point out that as an Irken, he doesn't need to sleep aside from recreational reasons. So if he really wanted to, he could conquer the planet overnight while the humans slept. They'd awake to find the planet conquered. His Master didn't need to go through with changing their sleep cycle based around a primitive species.

The Computer was promptly ignored by Zim as he got to work developing a brain weasel helmet, or "Sleep Weasels" as he called them.

The Computer predicted he would be ignored, but he had to be almost impressed with the stupid genius of such a plan. It was illogical and inefficient, but it was clear Zim was going to do things his own way no matter what anyone said.

He had a sharp mind for developing these insane ideas and wanted to examine and research the planet thoroughly. He is certain no other Invader is going this far on the pretenses of "blending in" and "learning the enemy." He didn't even need to look up information on the other Invaders to know.

It would seem like a waste to terminate such raw talent.

Even if his plans were...dumb. Very dumb.

“AAAAUUUUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!”

Case in point.

The Computer was broken from his thoughts at the sound of high pitched shrieking. His cameras and processors devoted his attention to the distressed little irken in the experiment room. Who was being attacked by the very same weasels he was experimenting with. Apparently, Weasels did not take kindly to having sleep hypnosis parasites planted in their brains.

Zim ran and shrieked and flailed his arms as the little furry creatures crawled all over him, slathering him with bites, claw marks and laser eyes. A quick scan confirmed that these weasels did not have rabies, they were just angry. VERY angry. And aside from Zim’s panicking and mild bleeding from the bites he appeared unharmed. He was just freaking himself out, making the weasels angrier. He was going to seriously hurt himself if this kept up. Even if it was, admittedly, hilarious to watch.

The Computer wordlessly opened up the weasel containment unit without a verbal command. 

“Master, contain the weasels in here.” 

Zim peeled one of the weasels off his face, and threw it in the containment unit. He did the same for the one biting underneath his leggings and two others that were chomping down on his antenna and leg respectively. 

Zim then slammed the glass door to the containment unit shut. Panting heavily. 

“Wheeeeeeeeew… ha… that was a close onnnnAUGHHHH!!!” 

Zim reached a new octave as he realized he didn’t notice the weasel clinging to his PAK, that had begun clawing the shell, causing a port to open up and began nibbling on wires to it’s heart’s content. 

  
“AHH! NO NONONONONONONONONO!!! GET OUT OF THEREEEE!” 

Zim tried to reach behind his back but instead he squeaked and convulsed as his eyes rolled back and his antenna twitched. He spun around in a circle and fell to the floor, before leaning back upright with his bodyweight only. Jerking and moving in an unnatural way. As if he didn’t have control of his own limbs. His arms and legs behaved like noodles as if the weasel was hosting the world’s worst grotesque puppet show. Zim’s tongue rolled out his mouth as his PAK began flashing red as a warning.

Now this was something the Computer WOULD intervene with. A robotic arm descended from the ceiling and snatched the weasel off Zim’s back, and threw it in the containment unit unceremoniously, crashing it into all it’s other bite-happy brethren before sealing them up again. 

Zim fell to the ground, moaning and twitching. 

Was he alright?

The Computer ran a scan of Zim’s current state. Specifically his PAK. He cross-compared reference to the scan he took on the first day Zim arrived to Earth. He didn’t have time to go over Zim’s PAK data in depth yet. Between GIR’s food experiments and Zim’s animal experiments, he had a feeling he'd be in pretty high demand over the weekends. 

“Master,” The Computer began, speaking in an authoritative neutral voice. “Some nerve ending wiring for your arm control nerve is frayed along with your limb systems and several other nerve wirings. I'll plug in and begin an automatic PAK repair as soo-”

“NO!” Zim shrieked, far more panicked then the Computer ever heard him, and that was saying a lot judging by how jumpy he was.

“N-No.” Zim stammered, shakily getting to his feet, swaying where he stood. “There’s no need for an automatic PAK repair… I can do it myself.” 

“......I… what? Are you sure? You can barely stand right now.. And your arms are very limp and...shaking....” The Computer couldn’t help but say aloud. 

“Ah, Don’t worry, it’s just a little scratch and some loose wires, it’s fine!” Zim extended his PAK legs to walk to the PAK repair work station, as opposed to walking on his little organic legs that were trembling like jelly. Thankfully, that part of his PAK was undamaged as he was able to extend and use his PAKlegs no problem. 

“...With all due respect, Master…” the Computer began as Zim leaned his body against the console, trying to figure out how to word what he would say next. “I don’t believe in your current condition that you would be able to repair your PAK manually.”

For a moment, Zim said nothing. He didn’t snap at him immediately like he normally did. Which worried him. He just leaned his head against the console, closing his eyes for a few moments.    
  


“....Master?” 

“EH!?” Zim’s antenna shot upwards and he looked confused. As if he wasn’t talking to him a few seconds ago.

That was very worrisome. 

“Let me repair your PAK.” The Computer said in the most soft and stern voice he could muster. 

Zim’s antenna twitched, as he realized what the Computer was asking. 

“Eh.. Ah, no, don’t worry about it! I’m FINE!” 

Before the Computer could argue his reasoning some more, Zim turned around so he could face the workbench and detached his PAK onto the work station. The PAK extended a few extra port wires and crawled onto the bench obediently, apparently used to this type of repair from its host. The lifeclock in the Computer’s systems activated, displaying the ten minute time limit in the center screen of every single camera in the home. A normal precaution so Invader Computers were currently aware when the PAK was attached to their Master and if they were at any risk of dying.

Zim arched his back and gave a long stretch that cracked his spine. He took a deep breath as he flexed his arms and claws, and began blinking each eye separately at a time and flexing his antenna individually from each other. The Computer observed him for a few moments. He consulted his database to see if such behavior was common for irkens who performed manual PAK repair. Oddly, there weren’t many instances of manual PAK repair operated by the irken host itself. PAK maintenance drones would repair other irkens typically, but not themselves. Invaders were trained in basic first aid, due to the nature of their job. They had to spend long quantities of time alone, and basic wear and tear maintenance was expected in their line of work. 

A few chewed off wires however, that’s a different story.

“...Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” The Computer began hesitantly, suspecting that Zim had no clue what he was tampering with. He can never know with him. 

Zim flexed his claws a few more times before he seemed satisfied, and he grabbed the wielding tool from overhead.

“Huh-hmm.” Zim said plainly. “This kinda thing happens all the time.”

“...You…. your wires get chewed out by weasels all the time?” The Computer asked.

“Yes! Well, no. Well.. I just mean… ya know… trainee combat and all that.” 

Invader training combat?.... Zim had his wires yanked out of him before? The Computer suspected that was highly unlikely. Due to the nature of an irken’s PAK, and how they held most of an irken’s consciousness and served as a secondary brain to work alongside their primary one, PAKs were strictly off limits from attacking. Especially during training and simulations. In fair duels one of the main rules is to not mess with a fellow irken’s PAK. Everything else is fair game. Punch them in the eye, yank their antenna or grind the heel of their boot into the spooch. Attacking or tampering with an Irken’s PAK is strictly forbidden and would cause low marks and demerits, and in extreme cases, re-encoding. 

“...How does that happen?” The Computer couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“Ah, oh ya know how training is..” Zim said distractedly as he began welding and repairing the loose wires. “Stomping or yanking of the PAK to see how long I can last, throwing it back and forth amongst the Elites, hitting it a bit with the brunt of the electro spears a bit too hard…that’s just how it goes. All normal endurance training for only the most elite of the elite.”

…….He was kidding? Right? 

"Like this one time during training, my PAK was yanked off and my fellow soilders wanted to see how long I could last, and that skilled Invaders are able to survive past the ten minute mark. Well, my record is about three minutes till. So we waited. They kept it away from me a little bit past my record, one minute was cutting it a little close, but we all had a good laugh about it."

He wasn't kidding.

“They are just testing to make sure I have the right endurance! They obviously were testing my durability and enguitity! I had to learn a few things about PAK repair if I wanted to complete my Invader training! A few dents and dings like this is nothing.” 

…..

The Computer immediately pulled up any information he had based on Zim’s training days as an Elite. He couldn’t find any documented evidence that his fellow elites had bullied him like this, but he did notice the peers he was typically stationed with at the time. 

ELITE RED:

SKILLED TACTICIAN AND IMPRESSIVE COMBAT SKILLS

HIGHLY FAVORED BY FORMER ALL MIGHTY TALLEST MIYUKI

CURRENT STATUS: ALL MIGHTY TALLEST RED 

ELITE PURPLE

RUTHLESS NO MERCY APPROACH TO COMBAT.

TOP SCORES IN STEALTH 

CURRENT STATUS: ALL MIGHTY TALLEST PURPLE

That….

That can’t be right.

The current Tallest were the ones that…

That would be impossible.

Logical evidence would suggest that these two were the ones that would purposely mess with Zim’s PAK to give him clear and unfair advantages. However, the Tallest are all powerful and all knowing in their judgements. They wouldn’t have become the Tallest if they were breaking the rules as elites. Even then, while Zim was the runt of his squad, he didn’t deserve such treatment. Either Zim did not know of the protocols or he thought that it was a standard part of training. 

But… Zim had to be lying? Right? I mean he’s defective, who knows what crazy thinks? 

That’s what the Computer wanted to think. But watching Zim calmly and accurately repair his PAK as if it was normal routine for him suggested otherwise. He’s been at it for about a minute now. 

“...Master.” The Computer said lowly and softly, lowering the probability of startling him.

“Hmmm?” Zim responded, laser-focused on his task.

“How are your hands so steady…. You were flailing around with limp arms not to long ago… and your PAK is still damaged.” 

Zim blinked up from his work, pausing for a moment before he gave a soft chuckle. It was unlike when Zim laughed loudly to assert his dominance. It was squeaky and soft. 

“Silly Computer!” Zim chuckled and he got back to work.

“...Uhhhhh..”

Zim snickered to himself. “You’re a machine, so I don’t expect you to get it.” 

What? What was so funny?

“My PAK has been damaged.” Zim then pointed towards his temple. “Not my ORGANIC brain.” 

“....I …..”

“Once the PAK is detached, my biological shell draws resources from the organic brain. The nerve endings in those are FINE. It’s the PAK that’s the problem.”

The Computer considered this. While what Zim was saying was true, most irkens didn’t tend to view themselves as a disconnect to their PAK. It was a level of heightened awareness not many had achieved. If an iken’s PAK was damaged, it was common they would still experience pain once it was detached. There were many reports of a PAK being damaged, the PAK thinking that it’s host has broken a leg, and once the PAK was removed, the irken biological shell would still feel as if their leg is broken. Only PAK technicians had this level of understanding on how the PAK brain and organic brain co-exist together. 

“You know, for an Irken super Computer, you’re not that smart if you forgot how PAKs work.” Zim snickered.

Oh that little…

“I have not!” The Computer huffed. “Just seeing this level of competence from you is shocking.” 

“I know, I know. I am truly amazing!” Zim beamed. Apparently not absorbing the Computer’s insult. Probably for the best.

“Now silence! I need to concentrate.” 

The Computer remained silent as he watched Zim work. Zim's hands worked efficiently at a pace that showed he was comfortable making these types of repairs.

Even so, an automatic repair would be faster and more efficient. The Computer took into consideration the stress patterns in his voice and heart rate when he thought he needed an automatic repair. In addition to his reluctance to being scanned or his PAK being scanned.

…...So, he knew he was defective then?

That had to be the logical conclusion. Only Defectives tended to get nervous about PAK fiddling or PAK repair. Although, observing his Master's hands, Zim had no qualms with repairing himself. Due to his intense focus and efficiency, it could almost be described as therapeutic for him.

Then was it the Computer himself he was afraid of?

There was still too much insufficient data for him to make a logical conclusion at the moment. But he will take Zim's comfort in mind when he eventually needs to consult him about PAK and biological repair in the future. Because let's face it, Zim will hurt himself again. 

And there tended to be a delay in repairing his wounds that took a few hours compared to an average irken. An average irken’s recovery time tended to be less than a minute, while Zim might take two or three minutes, perhaps longer. The Computer wasn’t sure of the time it took between the time he was bitten and the time he got home the first day of skool. The rabies didn’t start to infect him yet, but it was clear he wasn’t healed by the time he went home. It wasn’t that big of a distinction, but he had a feeling it could mean the difference between life and death. Especially with his Master’s experience with the inhabitants of this planet so far. 

The Computer began reviewing the errors he picked up when he scanned him during that first day of skool.

IRKEN INVADER ZIM

40 SCHMILLION ERRORS DETECTED UPON ACTIVATION

…..F….Fourty..schmi…

No way is he going to go through all of that!

He knew Zim was defective but this is just excessive. His databank supplied him with the knowledge that no other irken in the course of the entire species history had as many errors that Zim had.

Great.

That helps.

So much.

The amount of time, resources and energy he would need to use to diagnose each and every problem with the little guy would take way too long. Considering that he didn’t have a sleep mode, he didn’t have that energy to spare. His circuits will get burned out if he just spent all day researching Zim’s errors. 

And with Zim's Lifeclock taking up a majority of his vision and focus, it would be extremely unwise to dive into that Florpus hole of errors at this point and time.

The Computer mulled it over, noting to himself that three minutes have passed so far. What would be the most logical and efficient way to go about this? 

Well……..to just take it as it came he supposed…. 

If it’s not relevant to whatever problem Zim is having at this point in time, he doesn’t need to look into it that deeply.

He had a feeling that this was an extremely lazy and ignorant way of looking at things. But he was stuck here with Zim. It’s not like he can terminate him or get assigned a new Invader yet. Not with those “modifications” that Zim put in place to insure he wouldn’t get terminated upon activation. The Computer was starting to wonder if that’s why his sleep mode was removed as well. There was a risk that he would get updates from the Control Brains if he went into sleep mode and possibly rebooted. Which would sync his data with the Collective. Which would therefore update his status on “INVADER” Zim. 

….The Computer would compliment him for his cleverness, if it wasn’t so counterintuitive to his primary directive and programing.

He briefly checked his PAK’s efficiency at biological repair. As he suspected, there were five errors. Ones that prevented the healing rate. It was hard to tell how long it would take Zim to heal from certain injuries, depending on the severity of the injury and his metabolism at the time. It was all guesswork. 

Man, keeping him alive would be such a chore….. Wait…. Why did he care..?

Four Minutes have passed. 

Okay. Stop thinking about that. He will sort out Zim’s errors as they come. But for now, they were moving towards the halfway point of the time limit. 

“Master, Four minutes have passed since PAK detachment. At this stage, your biological brain will show signs of detachment from the PAK brain. I highly recommend attaching your PAK.”

Zim’s antenna flicked upwards, indicating he was listening. 

“A’Most...done.” Zim murmured, having difficulty stringing the words together. Applying the wielding touches to the dent, having already repaired the wires.

“Continuing PAK maintenance at this stage would be unwise. If you are to continue, I highly recommend plugging your back ports into the emergency life support system for extended additional repairs.” 

“Just….dent….. Fine.” Zim replied, staying focused on wielding the dent and scratches left by that last weasel. 

The Computer gave Zim a quick scan over. Well…. His eyes don’t appear to be glazed over… yet.

“Alright. I am giving you one more minute, but after that I am deploying the emergency life support connectors to attach to your back ports. Do you understand, Master?” The Computer wanted to make sure he was lucid enough to understand. 

“...hmm.. Yes. Yes. Good.” Zim seemed to agree. “Not...long…” 

“...hmm ooookay.” 

The Computer kept a strict focus on Zim and the Lifeclock. Making sure to observe him for any early symptoms of PAK detachment. Which is what he should have been doing in the first place when he himself wasn’t sure of Zim’s below average healing rate for an irken if PAK detachment symptoms start manifesting sooner rather than later.

About halfway through the four minute mark, the door opened and GIR came in making horrid sucking noises. Apparently he brought home some new Earthen food that he saw on TV. Great, he just cleaned that kitchen. Thankfully, it appeared to be just a drink, that the Computer hoped to the Control Brains he wouldn’t spill it on that floor. Made of shaved ice, bubblegum and chocolate? As well as other flavorings and additives that were all artificial. Sounded disgusting. GIR’s noises weren’t really helping. The Computer was about to tell Zim he was approaching the five minute mark, when he felt the familiar uncomfortable feeling of someone skittering around in his inner wires. 

What? What?

GIR was on the couch.

Zim was repairing his PAK.

Who was in the ceiling? 

His Cameras in the living room focused upward. Sure enough… there was an intruder. He couldn’t make out his identity, he was wearing a black spy tracksuit. This was a premeditated attack judging from the battle armor. The intruder came prepared.

“Security breach!” He told Zim right at the five minute mark.

Zim blinked and tilted his head up slowly. He gasped. “An Intruder!” He turned his back and his PAK eagerly attached itself to its host. Zim looked ready for action and combat at the supposed intruder as the Computer brought him upstairs. It appears there were no ill effects as he was reconnected with his PAK. That was good. He didn’t want to think how he’d react if there was a delay in his PAK and organic brain syncing up. 

Zim scanned the living room.

“GIR! You left the door open again!” Zim lectured his robot servant who was currently engrossed in his disgusting beverage. 

No, that wasn’t it, look up!

“I got Chocolate Bumblegum!” GIR replied cheerfully, opening his mouth and dripping it all over the floor.

Great… he just cleaned that. But that was the least of his worries..

The Computer wanted to tell Zim to look up but he was concerned about speaking up when an intruder was present. 

As Zim was lecturing GIR about the importance of not dropping his guard he could feel the intruder crawling around on his wires. The suit they were wearing appeared to have sticky trackpads that kept him clinging to the walls. He didn’t know the risk of attacking without Zim’s permission. Judging from GIR’s expression as his mouth dropped open and the chocolate bubblegum mess from his mouth dripped to the floor as he noticed the intruder too. 

Some SIR unit it was if it didn’t even engage in defensive mode at the sight of an intruder. Zim closed the door and the Computer seriously considered activating his lockdown mode and just ejecting the intruder from the building. Zim seemed really disinterested and just seemed to think the Intruder alert went off because GIR left the door open. 

“COMPUTER!!!! TAKE ME TO THE WEAA-SELS!” Zim announced confidently. 

Didn’t he just repair his PAK from a weasel attack from said weasels?

This runt had a death wish. 

The Computer opened the elevator and compiled without a complaint, planning to eject the intruder from the base when Zim was below in the base. 

“Wow!” 

That voice! That Computer knew that grating voice anywhere. The voice of that trenchcoat menace that wouldn’t shut up on the porch and attacked his Master on the first day of skool. That little terror. He said he would be back and that he knows where Zim lived but he didn’t expect the intruder to be him?! Where had he gotten this equipment? 

Zim turned upwards at the noise and a flash of a camera went off.

“Hey!” 

“It wasn’t me!” The boy said innocently. 

“Yes it was!” Zim said what the Computer was thinking. 

“Computer! Intruder alert!” 

He didn’t need to be told twice. 

With no delay, the Computer brought his arms on either side of the child, attempting to grab and taze him. To his surprise, he jumped out of the way quickly as the arms hit each other. He seethed as he chased him down with multiple limbs, the child screamed in fear but jumped over the recliner with the precision and ease similar to that of an Irken Elite. He jumped towards the couch and over GIR, who was still mindlessly sucking down his beverage. Ugh… that dumb robot was in the way. The Computer took extreme care to work around GIR, but by then, the child already dived out the window.

The child turned to face Zim.

“Now I have proof, Zim! Photographic Evidence!” 

Dib waved the camera in Zim’s face. A quick scan showed the computer that it was a primitive Earth device that snapped images and saved them on a cartridge disk to be digitalized or printed out later. Very similar to Irken artist renditions and security footage. And this child snapped a picture of Zim without his disguise. If something like that got out to the Earth population, it would certainly be a huge risk for the little Invader. 

The Computer’s gnomes approached the meddlesome child from behind. There was no way he’d let him leave alive. Screw caution to the wind about attacking the native species inhabitants young. This kid was a serious threat to their mission. He attacked Zim once, and broke into the base. While Keef was annoying and unnerving, this boy was just relentlessly aggressive and invasive. 

“Soon, your guts will be spilled all over an autopsy table!” 

The Computer was already calculating a plan to alert the child’s parents and skool about how he died being hit by a car by a drunk driver as he made an attempt to snap his neck. An unfortunate end, but car accidents were a common cause of death, and if that didn’t work, he looks like the type of child who would break their neck climbing a tree in the middle of the night with spy gear on. 

But as he made his move, the child leaped over him and laughed, running out of range of the cameras and the gnomes. 

The Computer seethed as he knew that boy would be trouble. He would be back for sure. What’s more important, he has information that could get Zim dissected or captured. Judging from the prisoners of war were treated on this planet, that didn't bode well.

"You left the window open too!!!" Zim shouted at GIR.

"Ohhhh yeaaaaaaaah." GIR noticed as he continued to drop chocolate bubblegum all over the couch and floor.

"And you!!!" Zim pointed an accusatory finger up towards the ceiling. "Some lousy attempt at security that was! You didn't even fire lasers at him!!"

"I was going to…" the Computer argued. Even though admittedly he was too busy thinking about how to hide and cover the body that he forgot that could have probably vaporized his camera, but Zim didn't need to know that.

"Ugh! Thanks to you two being horrible, Dib now as photographic evidence!! I will be dissected and they will sell my body to the circus for sure!"

What?....

"They will dance around my body suspended in the dissection tank and they will LAUGH oh will they LAUGH…."

Is that what Zim thinks a circus is?

Well, with how much Keef rambled on about it he wasn't surprised.

"Master, if I could propose…"

"I don't want to hear anything out of you!!" Zim hissed, pointing up at the wires.

"You couldn't even grab him! The weasels were far more efficient at grabbing my PAK then.. oooh wait!"

Oh no. Here it comes. The little runt will send weasels after the Dib kid or something.

"If I shrink down into Dib's brain, and get a hold of his arm control nerve, I will have him destroy the camera! And then… NO ONE shall get a hold of that photo! I am a GENIUS!"

…..what.

WHAT.

WHAAAAT?

".....Humans don't have arm control nerves." The Computer was so blindsighted that was all he could say.

"Computer, bring me to the equipment room so I can craft a vehicle to shrink down to cellular levels and disrupt the neurological signals in Dib's brain!"

This was….the Computer didn't even know what.

A crazy kind of stupid.

This was just excessively extra and completely unnecessary.

"Master, just destroy the camera.. you don't need to craft…"

"SILENCE!! TO THE EQUIPMENT ROOM!"

There was no reason with him.

So the rest of the night was spent crafting a subterranean vehicle capable of shrinking down to microscopic size and on a lesser note, cleaning up after GIR. The Computer was impressed that Zim managed to finish something like that in a single night. Zim stood proudly at his creation and hopped inside immediately.

“Seriously, Master… you can probably just destroy the camera with your PAK blast-”

Zim wasn’t listening until he shrunk down to microscopic levels.

“.........You could have waited to do that……..” The Computer fought the urge to impress a sigh as the tiny little ship signal set a course for the skool. 

Well hopefully he’d get there in time…. It would have been faster to just fly to the skool, and THEN shrink down, but it would have been better to not initiate this plan at all. 

Roughly around two hours after Zim left, the phone rang.

Well… that was unexpected.

Did Zim run into trouble? Well, he could have, but wouldn’t he just use the transmission line directly?

  
RIIINNNNNGGGGGGGGG

GIR wasn’t home, he was out searching for his latest food hunt. He doubted the crazy bot knew how to answer the phone anyways.

RINNNNNNNNNNNNGGGG

Should he answer it? Who even got this number? He just recently reinstalled it by the couch after Zim disconnected the line two days ago. The only people who knew of the phone line were the phone company, Keef (somehow) and the Skool when he signed those parental form-

….Oh.

RIIIIIIINNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGG

The Computer accessed his systems to pick up the phone digitally. Before he could speak, he heard low ragged breathing that sounded suspiciously like the hissing of a snake, and a chill of death filled the room. It felt as if every circuit froze over before he could even utter a word. 

“....Uhhh…… Hello?”

“Zim has not shown up to class today.” replied the voice on the other line, a raspy elderly voice that was laced with venom with every word she spoke. 

“....I’m….. sorry?” The Computer started… very confused.

He heard that loud sound of papers being dropped to the desk on the other line.

“Is this ‘Human Computer 03302001’?”

The Computer’s processor stalled a bit, remembering the paperwork he filled to have Zim enrolled and the ‘false name’ he gave.

“Uh… yes.. Uhh wh-”

“And you’re his legal guardian.” 

“Yes.” The Computer replied nervously, feeling as if he was under an existence evaluation. 

Were they found out? 

“Then why isn’t your child in skool!” the person on the other line spat “It’s your responsibility to ensure that he puts his nose to the grindstone in this miserable education system and gets crapped back out so he can have a job he hates just like the rest of us! I don’t take kindly to unexcused absences in my classroom Mr.Computer! You are supposed to call ahead of time if your crotch-gremlin is sick!” 

The Computer was used to being yelled at by Zim, but this was another thing entirely. The woman on the other line had such venom and authority behind her words it felt as if the Tallest themselves were lecturing him on shoddy performance. The Computer nervously pulled up in his databank what skool absences were. Fortunately the humans did have a databank of their own called the “internet” something he hasn’t looked too far into. A quick internet search and her formulated a reply as fast as he could. 

“I.. I apologize… but my Master.. Uhhh I mean.. Zim. Yes, I mean Zim. He is.. Very sick actually.”

“How sick?” 

“Extremely sick.”

“What does he have? Does this have to do with that horrible skin condition he claims he has?”

“Yes.” The Computer replied without thinking. “He has an…” he searched the internet for everything known about skin conditions. “An autoimmune deficiency…he gets sick rather often..” The Computer made up on the spot, hoping to cover his bases when Zim will inevitably ditch skool again for Invader work. He wasn’t good at falsifying data. Which he should be, considering that’s part of his job… What was wrong with him?!

The Computer could practically hear the recipient’s dried lips curl up to a snarl as she gave a hissing breath through her nose. 

“And you didn’t think to mention this on his enrollment form or call ahead of time becauuussseee…” She hissed out that last word. 

“I…. uhhh…” The Computer tried to think of an excuse. Human Internet, HELP! 

“I was distracted by my demanding office job?” He attempted, lamely.

He could practically feel her scrutinizing glare through the phone. 

“That.. I stay at home for… because my child is sick. Very sick….I work from home… in IT… with computers.. Which is why they call me Computer uhh.”

“I don’t want your life story.” she spat.

The Computer stayed quiet, resisting the urge to apologize to this teacher drone. 

“You science and math guys are all the same. Bunch of irresponsible twats is what.” She grumbled to herself. 

The Computer could infer that she dealt with someone else whose parent was good with technology. However due to the pressure of the Teacher drone’s accusations, he couldn’t draw any conclusion on whose parent that was at the moment. 

“In the future….Call ahead of time if your ugly child is sick.”

“Yes Ma’am.” The Computer responded immediately. 

“I look forward to meeting you in person this coming Friday during Parent-Teacher night. Just so I can say to your face what a horrible father you are.” 

And with that, she hung up. 

The Computer processed what had just happened in stunned silence for approximately three hours. 

He was brought out of his stupor when GIR came home with a greasy bag of synthetic cow meat wrapped in a corn starch shell. Otherwise known by humans as ‘Tacos’ GIR began wolfing down the tacos on the couch. Making the effort the Computer spent cleaning the living room, rather pointless.

The Computer let out a sigh.

GIR looked up at the ceiling for a moment then lifted up the taco. “Ya want sum?” 

“No, I can’t eat.”

“.....That’s so sad….” GIR’s eyes began to water. 

“Don’t cry.” the Computer said sternly.

“Oki!” GIR munched down on the rest of his Tacos, happy as could be. The Computer turned on the TV for GIR so he could have some time to think. 

The Computer spent the rest of the day looking into the skool systems rules. He wouldn’t want to get another angry phone call from that educator if he couldn’t help it. Apparently, the skool had a strict truancy policy. It never used to be that way. Apparently some delinquent kid had too many frequent unexplained absences with the same lie about hunting monsters which brought down their district rating in perfect attendance. So the Skool started taking unexcused absences very seriously.

The Computer kept a saved file of the Skool’s contact information, because he had a suspicion that he’d be calling the Skool ahead of time very often. During his research of the educational facility, he noticed the community events page. Parent Teacher night was this coming Friday. Apparently, it was some sort of mixer event that was a performance review of the student’s progress so far in the skool year.

The Computer did question having it this early, but it was more or less a rain-check on the students after the first month of skool had passed. Zim did enter the term a little bit late, so the Computer questioned what could Zim be even reviewed in a week. On one hand, that educator was expecting him to show up, and he didn’t have the method or means to appear in person. He was the Computer and the House and the security system, but he didn’t really have a mobile unit to go in his place. He could send GIR, but that could raise a bunch of questions.

As the Computer pondered late into the night how to get out of this predicament, further researching and unimpressed with the skool’s level of education compared to Irk and even other facilities on this planet… he received an alert that his Master was coming home. 

Before he could unlock the door, the microscopic ship grew to the size of a small VOOT inside the living room, clanking to the ground rather unceremoniously. Covered in foreign contaminants that could be described as human excrement, waste and by-product. 

How… How even… 

Zim kicked the door open with a huff, crawling out of the cockpit and landing on the floor. Shaking his arms and splattering waste on the floor. The sludge dripped onto the tile. Causing small puddles of goo all over the floor in addition to the large puddles left by the Nano-ship. 

The house itself rumbled slightly in discomfort. He… He just cleaned that... .. He was so grateful he had no sense of smell. 

“That disgusting wormy DIB!” Zim immediately started venting. “How dare he flush ME… MEEEE!!” Zim stomped around the living room. Tracking raw sewage all over the house. GIR giggled and got up from the couch, and rolled around in the track Zim made.

…...Stop. Stop moving. Stop talking, do you not know what you’re covered in… stop.

“I might have failed to make his brain horribly stupid,” Zim made gestures talking with his hands, flinging the foriegn contimanant onto the TV monitor.

No. No no. No… Control Brains.. .why… no

“But I succeeded in my plan to get Dib to successfully crush-”

“GIR GET THAT OUT OF YOUR MOUTH!” The Computer boomed at full volume, causing GIR to slowly plop the sewage he was lapping up from the ship out of his mouth like a waterfall. 

Zim shrieked and jumped at the Computer’s voice. The Computer didn’t care. To Flibba Dibba with it! 

“COM-PU-TEEERRRR!!!! DON-”

  
“Master, please go to the decontamination chamber and rid yourself of the human excrement you’re covered in!”

“Whaz-EH? Human excre….AUUUUAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!” 

Zim began screaming as the horror dawned on him. That's what it was he was covered in?! Zim made a mad dash for the closest elevator and demanded to be brought to the decontamination chamber. Seriously?! How could he not know?! He said Dib flushed him and Zim was in Dib’s body right? That was his plan anyways? He obviously came out of ONE end… how could he NOT know that was what he was… ughh you know what, nevermind. The Computer didn’t want to think about this anymore as he deployed the cleansing decontamination liquid over Zim once he was secured in the chamber. 

He picked up GIR by his doggie hood, before he could do any additional damage and began spraying him down in the living room, along with the huge mess the Nano-ship made by just plopping in the center of the house. GIR giggled as the Computer sprayed down the entire living room and slathered GIR and Zim vigorously in cleansing chalk. 

“By the way…” The Computer mentioned while he was near the end of cleaning up the mess.

“Your teacher called today… apparently there’s this thing called Parent teacher night and-”

“COMPUTER! Bring the ship down to the storage room for later! We might need an extra shrinky tranformery ship sometime.” 

The Computer did what he was told. But that wasn’t what he-

“That is enough Computer! I think I shall retire to the Television for tonight. Has the living room been disinfected?” 

“It has… but-”

“Excellent!...” Zim got out of the decontamination chamber, and marched towards the lift. “Bring me a program about Human bodies… Apparently Dib said humans don’t have arm control nerves!” 

“.....I…. also said th-”

“He’s obviously lying! I was able to locate the arm control nerve in his belly! Such an ignorant pathetic human!” 

Zim ascended the elevator and sat down on the now, sparkling clean, couch. GIR was pulling the Doggie hood tight over his head, huffing the new clean smell of his disguise. 

“Hey?! Where’s the program on human bodies? Come on, Computer! Chop, chop!” 

“...uhh.. Hang on…” The Computer browsed through the TV guide on his human cable program.

“There’s apparently a re-run on this science show on human bodies tonight… The scientist host looks to have developed a microscopic nanoship to explore the interior of the human body in depth. It’s called ‘Probing the Membrane of Science’.” The irony of the specificness of the topic of the episode wasn’t lost on the Computer. 

“Ooooh. Neat. Computer! Engage the science show!” 

“Alright… but just reminding you… go to skool tomorrow.”

“Eh.. AH?! I MISSED SKOOL!?!” 

“Relax, I took care of i-”

“I MUST be certain to always strive for EXCELLENT attendance! The Bitters commander does not take too kindly to tar-days!” 

Yeah no kidding. The Computer thought.

“Another thing, Parent-teacher night is coming up in a few days and we don’t really have a method of-”

“Oooooh science man!” GIR chirped at the TV as the program started. Watching the eccentric and enthusiastic Professor speak in an authoritative and excited voice about the human body. Displaying his nanoship before letting out a mad scientist laugh as he shrunk it down, gaining cheers of approval from the audience. 

GIR giggled. “I like his voice, it’s funny.”

Zim stroked his chin, watching the science man seriously. “… It’s a level of showmanship, GIR! He knows what it’s all about. Presentation. That’s what science is really about” Zim commented back to GIR. 

“It iz?”

  
“OF COURSE! Where’s the fun if you CAN’T make transforming fighting robots and death rays and horrorblobs and evil laugh about them?!”

“I had no idea.” GIR nodded.

“Something about that ship looks familiar…” 

Probably cause you were in a similar one. 

“...Humph.. This science man obviously stole his plan from me! What a stupid show!” Zim said as he continued to watch it. 

The Computer tried several times to bring up the conversation of parent teacher night, but Zim saw fit to ignore or dismiss him for the rest of the night. When Zim couldn’t focus, he REAAALY couldn’t focus.

After enough attempts the Computer decided that he’ll end up breaching this topic later tomorrow morning. Hopefully Zim will have enough focus to devise a plan by then. There were a few more days until Friday, they had time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was planning on having Parent-Teacher Night couple up with NanoZim in this chapter, but a lot of the dialogue exchanges and interactions took way longer then I expected and I figured I might as well just make Parent-Teacher night it's own chapter anyway so I wouldn't rush Compapa's thoughts on the "false parents" 
> 
> From that point afterward, I kinda just shift the timeline to how I want for story purposes rather than try to justify keeping everything strictly to the episode order.
> 
> Anyways, I WANT TO THANK EVERYONE who is loving my story so far!!!!
> 
> Habitsayss wrote this adorable little one-shot about Computer comforting Zim when he's crying: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25575250 
> 
> CephalonGhost and I designed a body for the Computer in my other fic about him:  
> https://dana-chan325.tumblr.com/post/627825131368202240/paketdimensioncomic-finally-figured-out-how-to  
> (actually Mika/Lululablette designed the body, Ceph drew it, and I was just the creative consultant who said "yeah that's good" ) 
> 
> Also Alex Kammy recommended this song which they thought fit Computer:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=il2TxTSpB4U
> 
> Which Ceph pitch-shifted to sound like Computer:  
> https://www.dropbox.com/s/k219zjafdliy1pg/Defrag%20except%20it%27s%20pitch%20changed%20to%20sound%20like%20Computer.mp3?dl=0
> 
> Anyways, sorry for the long comment, I just want thank you everyone for supporting this self-indulgent story of mine and people are appreciating Computer more!


	5. The Next Time, Just use a Parenting book

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parent-Teacher Night is fastly approaching. Thankfully, over the week Zim has come up with a plan that in will no way expose them and almost certainly didn't forget Parent-Teacher night and put it off until the last minute, making his Computer have a major migraine. 
> 
> Oh yeah, and the end of the World happens, but this ain't about that. Not when there are teachers and parents to impress!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the longest chapters so far. It gave me a lot of trouble near the end, but I'm glad I finished it. Hope you like it.

A week was NOT enough time.

Did the entire universe just conspire against him to make his job as an Invader Computer the most frustrating, mind-numbing, stupidest job in the entire empire?! Between all of Zim's animal experiments, GIR's antics, and the endless amount of skoolwork Zim seemed dedicated to complete himself, there was absolutely no opportunity to mention the upcoming dreaded event. 

No.

That wasn't it.

If there was no opportunity, that'd be one thing.

It's just that the Defective runt WILL. NOT. LISTEN.

_ “Master, I’m just reminding you that Parent-teacher night is in three days.” _

_ “SILENCE!!! I told you to speak only when spoken to!”  _

_ “....Understood but-” _

_ “AH-Bababababa! SILENCE!” Zim returned to squinting at his history homework. _

_ …. Alright, so he was in a bad mood, there's always tomorrow. _

_ “Computer, run a scan on the state of the laser weasels and start bio-repairing mechanical parts for the Cybernetic Squirrels." Zim ordered after a failed attempt to see which one of the specimens was stronger, by pitting them against each other.  _

_ “Scanning…..And just reminding you, Master, Parent-Teacher night is in two days. It might be best to-”  _

_ “COMPUTER! THE SQUIRRELS!!!" _

_..Alright, he's distracted. Maybe he should clarify the severity of the situation so he's not brushed off next time. _

_ “Master, Parent-teacher night is next evening, your teacher called and is expecting me as your legal guardian to go, and you haven’t made any plans to-” _

_ “GIR! GET THAT OUT OF YOUR MOUTH!!!”  _

_ The rest of the night was spent trying to wrestle the Weasels out of GIR's mouth and then preserving the bodies to be studied later. By the time that was all over, it was already time for skool the next day. _

"Master, a final reminder that parent-teacher night is tonight, and you haven't made any preparations for the said event. At this point, I suggest calling in sick so you have an excuse not to g-"

The door promptly slammed as Zim began goose-stepping his way to skool.

…….

"UUUUGGGGAAAHHH" 

The Computer let out a frustrated noise between a groan and a scream. One that GIR seemed to think was funny and spent the next two hours trying to mimic the sound.

Screwhead this!

Why was he even trying?! It's not like this is a life or death situation anyways, and even if it was, he loses nothing if Zim dies. Zim was the irken that caused the great tragedy that was Operation Impending Doom One. If Zim just keeled over and died, it'd be a benefit to the empire. This wasn't even a life or death situation! Why did he even bother with this stupid defective little runt of garbage for a mission that isn't even real!? He had half a mind to just call his teacher later tonight and say that Zim can't make it due to a family emergency. That could work, but he doesn't want to call her if he doesn't have to. 

Ugh. Again, curse his programming for wanting to find a solution to a rather minor problem the pseudo-Invader faced.

He'd rather just go with it, and face that eventual phone call he'll receive from that horrible woman when Zim and him are a no-call, no-show.

He dreaded it. What frustrated him was that the phone call was completely avoidable if Zim had JUST LISTENED.

Needless to say, the Computer was in a sour mood all day. Stewing in potential outcomes and scenarios of what would come of this. Making himself even madder that THIS STUPID THING is what he was dedicating his processing power towards today. 

Even after quieting GIR with the Scary Monkey Show, it did nothing to improve his mood. So when a human woman approached the base with a large makeup bag later that evening, he had half a mind to vaporize her where she stood. He decided against it when the stranger locked eyes with his gnome camera outside. He used that opportunity to run a quick scan.

HUMAN SALESWOMAN

PRODUCTS: MAKEUP

THREAT LEVEL: ANNOYING

INTELLIGENCE LEVEL: POO-BRAIN

Sure, it wasn't his most detailed, in-depth scan ever, but he busted enough of his circuits just trying to figure out how the rest of the evening would go, and he didn't feel the need to waste his energy on a Makeup-drone.

Once the human pressed the doorbell, that signaled to the Computer to trigger the automatic system of the Roboparents. Two Robot drones that came pre-installed with the house, although terribly. From what the Computer gathered, they were even active before Zim even got the Computer 'operational'. Designed by "build-a-base" to simulate a normal family group dynamic or living situation but only at surface level. They were mostly meant to ward off any potential intruders if the Irken Master or SIR were not present to do so. 

He knew the other Invaders had a similar construct at their respective bases. 

Invader Slacks's planet of large nostril people tended to live in large clusters of social groups and nests of good smelling things hidden in caves. So his base constructed about five robot companions of a small artificial herd so he wasn't beaten for being a 'loner'.

“........House?” 

Other Invaders like Tenn however, due to the circumstances of their situation, and that Meekrobs were known telepaths it was far more efficient for her to keep her irken base entirely underground and secluded on her own as possible. It was the best they kept a low profile, so no synthetic family was created, nor exterior base.

“House?....House? You sleepin’ again?”

There was also Invader Zee, whose planet consisted of crystal caves of rock candy. The lizard rock skinned aliens that inhabited that planet often grouped in pairs of two and we're usually rarely seen alone. Typically as mates, but that was not mutually exclusive. Zee had a drone robot that served as her false mate to have her stand out less or run the risk of her being courted herself.

“House! I saw dis episode! I can’t find the remote!”

Even knowing that the robots simulating a normal family dynamic was the standard-issue procedure for any Irken Invader like everything Zim owned, they tended to be…..not good.

Even the less esteemed Invaders like Skutch and Skoodge had more convincing robot drones. By that, they hadn't bothered with them in the first place. Which is what Zim should have done in all honesty. But Zim just had to do everything HIS way, he supposed.

“HOUSE! I WANTA WATCH A NEW EPISODE!” 

The Roboparents were essentially a decoy. They had no free will or sentience in the same way that an Irken Computer or a 'GIR' had. They had a lack of agency and their main purpose just appeared to be answering the door as Zim came home. They were usually always sparking and sometimes they didn't always return to the closet when the Computer willed them to.

The robot 'dad' had a habit of ramming repeatedly into the wall several times before returning to the closet. While the Robot 'Mom' had a habit of trying to cook for 'guests' they never had. Especially if one of GIR's food experiments were in her line of sight. Sometimes they didn't get activated at all, as shown with the Keef situation during the first weekend on this planet.

The Computer could barely handle GIR's antics. Having to deal with extremely defective decoy drones on top of that, it was way too much then he was willing to handle. The Computer mainly kept them relegated to the closet, but that didn't stop them from coming out and wandering about on occasion when he doesn't call for them. Sometimes when Zim was at skool they decided to come out on their own. The Dad spouting some “life advice” to GIR that was mainly relegated to the morals of the cartoon programs GIR watched. While the Robot Mom took to the kitchen to making cookies or baked goods for “when my little Zimmie comes home!” Which usually just involved taking GIR’s latest food experiment from the trash and putting it in the oven. The Computer usually had to send them an override command to return to sleep mode about five to ten times before they return to the closet, but not before the Dad slams into the wall, and the Mom gives GIR ‘food’ to “share with your brother.” Which GIR usually happily inhaled all for himself. 

The Roboparents would serve a far better purpose if they were dismantled and used for scrap parts later. But for now, they were basically a glorified answering machine for the door and after a whole week of being brushed off by Zim over the dreaded parent-teacher night, he’d rather let the Roboparents handle the intruder/saleswoman then deal with the issue himself. When GIR answered the door, it usually meant that they would get invited in and he didn’t want to deal with that right now. The worst that would happen is that the saleswoman would run off screaming at the sight of those robots. They very obviously, did not look anything like humans and anyone with half a functioning brain could pick up on that.

Besides…… it was past three pm. Zim would be home soon. He can afford to sort out any problem those two caused. He brushed him off all week, he can sweat a little.

“Welcome Home, son!” The Robo-Dad chimed as he answered the door. 

The Computer observed with amused interest at the Saleswoman’s polite, but awkward smile.

“Oh...Umm.. heh.. Is the lady of the House in?” 

The Robo-Mom, who was in the kitchen the whole time, turbosped to the door, sideswiping the robodad out of the way.

“That’s Me! I am House-Lady, brush your teeth”

“Umm..” 

His readings indicated a minor spike of anxiety from her. The Computer fought the urge to chuckle at how uncomfortable the intruder was. The drones were clearly not passing well for normal parents as they were supposed to. Just as he predicted. 

Another angle from his camera at the same time caught that GIR seemed frustrated for some reason and he was going over to the TV to change the channel but stopped short as he locked eyes with the Human woman…. Well… more so her bag… which had the unfortunate brand slogan of “Take Make-up”. 

The Computer predicted a horrible disaster would befall this human woman and he welcomed it. If this is what his life is now, He might as well have fun with it every now and then. 

“Umm...I’m selling make-up and I just know you’ll find something great in-”

“I SAID… BRUSH YOUR TEETH!!!” 

And with that, The RoboMom tackled the Makeup lady to the ground, thoroughly scrubbing out her mouth with a toothbrush she pulled from Irk knows where. The base gave a low pitched rumble that sounded distinctly like a chuckle as he watched this unfold. It didn’t take no more than a few more seconds before he saw Zim trip into the front yard near the gate, paralyzed with fear. The makeup lady smashed her bag into the RoboMom’s face as she ran away screaming. GIR running not too long after her.

“WAIT! COME BACK! I NEED STUFF!” 

Well, that was fun.

Zim stomped angrily into the base and eyed the roboparents. Of course, his Master would think to blame the stupid bots instead of his home security that sent them on the lady in the first place. The Computer couldn’t help but feel a bit giddy at that. Like he was getting away with something. And really, there was no harm done…. Except to maybe that Makeup lady that he could see being tackled and wrestling with GIR near the end of the Cul-de-sac. Like the most she would do is just not come back, which was the best-case scenario.

He had his fun and it improved his mood seeing the Roboparents trying to “dote” on their “son” the instant that Zim was in the door. It’s honestly what he deserved after a frustrating week of not being listened to. It made him almost forget about what he was so frustrated over in the first place, until…

“What am I going to do? I only have a few hours before this… parent-teacher-thing….” 

Ah.. right that. His teacher must have told him. Well, only three hours before it starts is as good a time as any to bring up his suggestions…

“The parent decoys aren’t ready for that type of service.”

….Wait… Oh. Oh no. No. He can not be serious. 

“Their interactive skills are too limited.”

He is! He is?! Does he really? Oh no. No, no, no no no no. Having them answer the door to get back at Zim a little bit is one thing, but… 

“...Unless….”

NO! NO, UNLESS!!!!

“GIR!!!” 

“YES SIR!” GIR jumped down from the ceiling of the Computer’s wires, even though the Computer never remembered or felt him going up there, covered in makeup and other various items fell out from his doggie suit.

“GIR, we have to program the parents to learn human social behavior if they are to join me in parent-teacher night!”

“YES SIR, RIGHT AWAY.” 

If the Computer had a body, he figures he’d be burying his face in his hands right now. 

Before the Computer knew it GIR took the Roboparents and strapped them to chairs with their eyes and brains wired open in the Telecommunications room, or as GIR called it, the TV Room. All of his monitors displaying a wide variety of nonsense that GIR deemed important and were all his “favorite show” and were necessary for the roboparents to learn. The Computer could filter, through his systems a majority of the information was not useful. Other than that Humans were very frail and had a variety of mundane problems they needed to solve through medication, and that Earth food continued to be disgusting, and children’s cartoons continued to be mindless. 

There wasn’t much of a need or want for him to go down the rabbit hole of looking up the nuances of Earth propaganda advertisement. The Computer was just so exasperated with this dumb scheme Zim came up with that he could barely will himself to say anything about it. It would just get shot down, he’s certain of it. 

Zim shook his head at the programs and advertisements that the human parents were forced to watch and approached GIR with a VHS tape.

“No, GIR! The robot parents must learn proper parenting from this video program!” 

Zim inserted the tape into one of the TVs as the program began to download into the Robot Parents’ circuit brains. The Computer ran a quick scan to see if that tape would even be helpful. Hypothetically, if the Robot Parents absorbed the knowledge, could they become more convincing decoys?

….The answer was a ‘shocking’ no. 

The Computer expected the videotape on ‘Proper Earth Parenting’ to be a completely outdated educational program. Judging from the arcane technology it was copied on. But that wasn’t even it. What he didn’t expect was the tape to be was a  _ MOVIE _ …. The entire VHS was a b-tier movie about aliens who came to Earth and adopted an Earth child. The aliens then disguised themselves as humans and pretended to be normal ‘proper’ and polite Earth parents so that they could keep the Earth child they grew attached to. A complete work of fiction, and the actors who played the “Parent aliens” were very over the top, and from his databanks, the movie wasn’t really rated highly for its time. The reviews and comments even mentioning that it was very stupid that no one noticed that they were aliens judging from their weird behavior, if someone acted like that in real life, they’d get picked up and dissected right away. 

Why was the Computer even surprised at this point?

Of course a tape titled “Proper Earth Parenting” wouldn’t be a “how-to” video about actual normal earth parents. The Computer could probably find better parenting advice from the human database known as the “internet.” And sure enough, as soon as he thought that, a majority of resources popped up into his brain. All of which were extremely more useful then what Zim had been doing.

“Make sure they watch the entire video, GIR!” Zim told him as he left the room. “The fate of the mission depends on it.” 

“With all due respect, Master….” The Computer exasperatingly began, already knowing that GIR turned off the program Zim wanted the Roboparents to watch in favor of mindless television, curling up snuggly on the warmest spot of the Computer’s wires for that monitoring system. 

“...This is a terrible idea.” 

Zim scoffed at that. “I didn’t ASK you, Computer!” 

The Computer finally allowed himself to let out a long sigh, and Zim squinted a single eye at the ceiling as he went to the lower Elevator to check on the squirrels, the weasels having perished in the great weasel vs. squirrel war… and GIR’s mouth. 

“Why are you sighing?”

“...It helps.” The Computer plainly responded. 

“EH? With what?” 

“Overheating.”

“Eh? Overheating? You overheat?”

“...Sometimes.” 

“Then go into sleep mode or something… geez…”

The Computer took a moment to respond… He had to assist his stupid Master…. He had to remind himself that it’s not his fault he’s saddled with a Defective who can’t even remember he disabled his Computer’s sleep mode, but that was hardly important at the moment. 

“Master, due to the evidence I have gathered…” morseo common sense. “It would be unwise to send the Robot Parental drones to Parent-teacher night. You said it yourself, their interactive skills are too limited…” 

“Which is exactly why I’m having GIR monitor their download of proper Earth parenting techniques.”

“Uh-huh. Right.” The Computer said, clearly aware of GIR sleeping on one of his cables while the Robo-Parents absorbed mindless Earth advertisement, cartoons, and dumb movies that GIR tried to all watch at once, and fell asleep overworking his information-gathering protocol.

“Where did you get that tape anyways?” 

“I am not sure…. I just found it in my lock-her today before I went back to the base! Very lucky, yes? I needed parents to attend the parent-teacher night, and this educational tape on proper Earth parenting has fallen right into my clutches.” 

“Umm… yes… that is lucky.” The Computer said, as he ejected the tape from one of his TVs and scanned it for fingerprints.

“Yes, yes! Very lucky! The humans are practically handing their planet over for me to conquer it.”

HUMAN FINGERPRINTS FOUND:

DIB MEMBRANE

THREAT LEVEL: 1000

IF SEEN, FIRE LASERS

Of course…. Why not? That explains so much. That little sneak must have planted it in Zim’s locker in hopes he would act as alien as possible so he could expose him. 

The Computer thought of bringing it up to Zim, but he knew he would just get yelled at. After reviewing a lot of parental material, a lot of them said that in order to deal with a difficult child that won’t listen, it’s best to make them think that they came up with the idea. While Zim wasn’t a human child by any means, he certainly behaved like one. A lot of the Irken records for his advice on Zim tended to be “TERMINATE HIM” which he obviously can’t, due to all the gutting Zim did of his innards on first activation. 

While Zim wasn’t a toddler being forced to take a bath, or being told to eat his vegetables, maybe some human techniques would work here? It was worth a shot, anyways. Following Earth advice for nervous children on their first day of skool somewhat worked for Zim, calming him down considerably when he went the first day. So would other techniques as well? He quite literally had nothing to lose.

“Master, while the idea of sending the robot drones in place of real parents was a good idea-”

“I thought you said it was a terrible idea.”

... Blarghit. 

“I meant terribly impressive.” 

Zim grinned, seeming satisfied with the answer. “It is, isn’t it?” 

“Yes. But I can’t help but think, why didn’t you tell your educator that a previous engagement came up and that you couldn’t make it?”

“Because I already promised the Bitters commander! I’m not going to lie to her!” 

The Computer wanted to point out that sending the Robo-parents out to the event is basically an elaborate lie, as well as his entire existence on Earth. However, this was one he couldn’t blame Zim for. After replaying that phone call with his teacher in his head, he understood exactly what he meant. 

“A valid point Master. Do you know what would make your plan go even better?” 

“Eh?! Ooooh! What?!” The Computer was glad he was more receptive to receive suggestions this way. However, Zim’s skepticism and hesitance in the Roboparents themselves was pretty obvious. 

“Download my consciousness into one of the Roboparents.” 

Zim blinked. It looked as if his own processor stalled, or his PAK forgot to translate the words. 

“EH!?! YOOOOU? Into the Robot Parents?”

“Yes, I-”

“YOOOOOOOU?! IN THE ROBOT PARENTS?! YOU?”

“Yes, I think it would-”

“YOU?! DOWNLOADED INTO THE ROBOT PARENTS?! YOU!!!”

The Computer waited a bit longer. 

“..........”

“........”

“......Are you done?” 

“.....Eh, one more…. YOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUU!?!??!” Zim pointed up at the ceiling at the circuitry of his base, his little fist quivering in furry and confusion. 

“..........”

“.........Okay, now I’m done.” 

“Right. Well, I have already downloaded a majority of parental advice from the human database. As well as appropriate social behavior for an event such as this. The Robot Parents are still downloading the video on Proper Earth Parenting… which might take them awhile…. Meanwhile, I already have all the necessary information needed for the event. I am technically already your legal Earth parental guardian. You just need to plug me in, and then.. Poof! Instant perfect parents.” 

Zim tapped his claws to his lips. He was actually considering this! He just had to convince him further! 

“If I downloaded your consciousness into the Roboparents…” Zim began, his brain activity spiking as he spoke. “Wouldn’t that leave the Base defenseless?” 

“Not necessarily.” The Computer began, unfolding a monitor from the workbench Zim was now sitting at. Zim had completely forgotten to record his observations on the cybernetic squirrels, which were now slightly mutating. 

The screen flickered to life and showed an image of their iconic green base made to look like an Earth house. 

“You see, as the Irken Invader Computer designated to you, I am the entire base, as well as the security system, and have access to every single room in the house.” The base expanded, showing a complete floor map of every single level of the base. 

“I am able to view the feedback from every single room and process it as data. So instances of my consciousness cover the entire base.” 

Zim squinted, trying to listen, but it was obvious he was having difficulty understanding. 

“Let me put it another way,” the Computer began, delighted in getting to explain how he worked. Granted, it was something that Zim should know, having trained to be an Invader, but the Computer was hardly complaining. He was getting to explain something he had thorough knowledge about without needing to look it up, and Zim was listening! 

The screen flickered to the Television room with all the monitors. Zim squinted an eye at it, not really absorbing what he’s seeing. 

“You know that television room? It’s a bit difficult to process all those screens at once, isn’t it?”

Zim squinted and strained. Like he was trying to but he eventually gave up with a defeated sigh. 

“As superior as my brilliant brain is, I can not.” 

“Well, I can.”

“EH?!” 

“I know exactly what every single one of those screens is saying and I can process them all at the same time”

Zim’s antenna cocked to the side in confusion, but then his face lit up and appeared to get it. 

“Ohhhhh! So.. You know what’s going on outside to warn me of intruders… but you also know what I’m doing as well!” 

“That is correct.” The Computer responded. Excited to have finally gotten somewhere with Zim. 

“If I downloaded my conscience into the Robot Parents, it will be no different than how I control the lawn gnomes outside, I will just have a mouth speaker function and full mobility. And if I’m brought to the parent-teacher function, due to the information on my database, I will know just what to say, and the entire house will be protected.” 

“Hmmmmm…” Zim nodded in understanding. Seeming to think deeply on it. 

Would he actually listen for once?

“I suppose…. That would be more efficient…..”

“Yes! Yes it would be!” The Computer could barely contain the excitement in his voice. 

“.....hmmm……ah… wait a minute… What of the robot-mother? Would you download your consciousness into them too?” 

“Ah… Well, I suppose I could. I could just serve the role of both parents if that will make you feel more comfortable.” 

“BAH! Then it won’t work then.” 

“.......Huh?” 

“The Bitters Commander is expecting me to bring BOTH of my parents! Par-ENTSSS! As is, plural! It would be too suspicious if your booming loudy loud voice was coming from BOTH of the Robot Parents!” 

………..This was such a non-issue it was laughable. But previous data suggested that Zim was very serious. 

“That’s no problem. I would be using the voice box relegated to the Robot Parents themselves. Probably only using my own voice filter for the male parental unit...And I don’t think your Teacher will be angry if you only came in with ONE parent. Single parents are actually a quite common occurrence… actually… according to the skool records… it seems as if that Dib kid-”

“IT DONE!!!” 

GIR’s voice echoed out of the speakers from Zim’s PAK. The SIR unit having a direct emergency line of contact with their Master.

“EXCELLENT!” Zim replied to the speaker. “Did they watch the whole tape?”

“Uhhhhh…. Yeah… uh-uh. I think so.” GIR said innocently. 

“With only an hour to spare! See! That didn’t take long at all! You’re just being paranoid!” 

“I’m am not, I just think that-”

Zim scampered off to the elevator shaft, too excited and eager that he just jumped up to the floor of the television room. Zim was delighted to see that the Robo Parents were giving stereotypical stock parental dialogue rather than being overly destructive, but the wild look in the Robo-Dad’s eyes told the Computer everything. In addition to all the violent cartoons and advertisements GIR made them watch, this will end so poorly.

“Master, PLEASE…. Just download my consciousness into the Robo-Parents.” The Computer was practically begging at this point. 

“Why? The Robo-Parents are now the perfect and most parental parents ever to exist! Surely I will impress the Bitters and the Dib with these decoys!” 

“But your teacher is expecting MY voice! She gave me a phone call last week and-”

“WHAT?! YOU KNEW ABOUT THIS PARENT TEACHER THING THE WHOLE TIME AND DIDN’T TELL ME!!!” 

“........I……..I tried to-” 

“That’s it! You are grounded! …..That’s a thing parents say, right GIR?” 

GIR gave a noncommittal shrug. 

“And by grounded I mean… To the House! You can not leave!” 

“FINE! That’s what I do normally around here anyway!” The Computer couldn’t hold in his angry traitorous thoughts towards his Master. Who cares if Zim rebooted him at this point? 

“Good, Now Computer, send me up! We only have…. THIRTY MINUTES?!! I’m gonna be laaaaaaaaateeee!” 

The Computer let out a low groan as he brought the elevator up for Zim. And watched with exasperated boredom as Zim held the hands of both of the Robo-Parents and wheeled them out the front door. Both of them making a solid THUMP sound as they dropped off the front porch.

Good. Riddance. 

Why did he even bother?!

What was his purpose of an Irken Computer when his stupid brain is going to be used on this? Now he has more parental knowledge then he has any right to, and it’s all practically worthless. If he had cameras implemented in the Robot-Parents, he’d love to see how that would go down. In fact, why didn’t he do that when they had been absorbing all that useless knowledge?! That would have been a better use of his time then trying to convince Zim… He could delete the knowledge he absorbed, but honestly, using the Human Parental Techniques was the closest he had ever gotten in convincing Zim of… well….. Anything… He might as well save it for future use...

And again…. WHY DID HE CARE!!!!

He blames his own programming. Part of his directive is to be as helpful to their Invader Master as much as possible. But unfortunately for him, He came with the heavy knowledge that the mission was false, his master wasn’t an invader, his master was responsible for at least two major blackouts and one great tragedy, and that he was the most Defective Irken to ever exist in their recorded databanks. 

Ugh…He can really see it in his head right now… Zim appearing with these sparking robots to Zim’s Teacher………..and the rest of the skoolboard……. And the majority of different types of parents…. With lots of adults…. With different life experiences and…….. 

……..

They were so going to get found out. 

Like not even in a funny way. 

He quickly browsed the databank of the entirety of the skool’s child records, to see if any parents posed a threat. 

Thankfully, a lot of them were pretty average to low intelligence… The skool wasn’t really highly rated….

PROFESSOR MEMBRANE

FATHER OF DIB MEMBRANE AND GAZ MEMBRANE

WORLD FAMOUS MAN OF SCIENCE

MOST SMARTEST MAN IN THE WORLD

……..Wait…. What?.... That name sounded…. Familiar…

“WE’LL BE BACK WITH MORE MIND-SHATTERING ADVENTURES IN SCIENCE WHEN POKING THE MEMBRANE OF SCIENCE WITH PROFESSOR MEMBRANE RETURNS AFTER THESE MESSAGES!”

The TV in the living room sounded, as GIR giggled in delight, happily holding the remote in his hands. 

Wait… Professor Membrane? That PROFESSOR MEMBRANE was DIB’S FATHER?!?! 

The Computer rewinded the TV in real-time. Much to GIR’s anguish, as the little robot frantically tried to press buttons on the remote, that the Computer denied the commands for. 

Sure enough…. One wouldn’t think that they were related at first glance, just due to the power Membrane projected and how differently he composed himself in regards to Dib. But there was no mistaking that signature cowlick. The episode that played was a rerun, having aired from last year. It looked as if a slightly younger Dib was his assistant, helping him dissect a frog for the children in the audience. The Computer couldn’t help but imagine the little runt under the autopsy knife. Watching as the children screamed in delight when the frog guts were cut open and the Professor explained each little organ that he ripped out forcefully and theatrically held in his hands.

Zim had mentioned that Dib would be there. If his father was there as well, that could end up to be a HUGE problem.

No wonder Dib had access to that spy gear and Zim had complained last week about Dib fighting him with a robot-mech in his own guts. Dib had access to all this technology because his Dad is a genius. If this kid actually succeeded in exposing Zim and it got out to his father, that would be disastrous. He had to increase the security threat that Dib posed. One Thousand was clearly too generous. 

The parent-teacher night was a TRAP!!!!

Dib had planted that tape and had obviously goated Zim into going because he knew his Dad would be there!!! 

This was… This was… UGH He didn’t even know what! The Computer relinquished control over the TV much to GIR’s delight. 

The Computer wondered if he could hack the skool's security system speakers, wait no…that would call attention to them... he could call the skool and… no…Zim already promised his teacher he'd attend... what if he…uh.. no.

He had no direct line of contact to Zim to warn him about Professor Membrane. There was only so much he could do as the Base's security system. Irken Computers didn't come with that type of direct line of communication. The only way he could contact Zim directly was if the base was in immediate danger.

Wait! … unless!

"GIR!" The Computer called to the little defective bot, who was settled on the couch, having taken off his disguise after having worn it all day. 

The little robot glanced up at the circuitry of the ceiling, narrowed his eyes, then turned back to the TV.

"GIR, can I ask a favor of you?"

GIR turned up the volume of the TV.

Was he…. ignoring him? No, that'd be illogical. The Computer brought the volume of the TV down.

"GIR, this is important, Zim's life might be in danger." 

The Computer swore he saw GIR's eye twitch in annoyance. But he must have imagined it. He's never seen the bot display anything but unbridled joy and optimism except when he had those brief moments of full functionality. There was no reason why he'd be angry.

GIR said nothing as he turned up the volume of the TV to maximum, a command that the Computer denied as he turned off the television. GIR's head shot up at the circuitry at the ceiling, looking downright insulted.

"GIR, Professor Membrane might be at parent-teacher night, and Zim is at risk of being exposed so there might be a risk of him being dissected and-...where are you going?"

As the Computer was talking, GIR had gotten up from the couch, and got his doggie costume from the closet, putting it on and heading towards the door.

"Goin' outside." 

"Oh…. " The Computer responded plainly.

"Well, you have a direct line of contact to Zim, so you don't really need to go To parent-teacher night."

"Nah, not goin' there. I'm gonna get another Suck Munkey. Theys got a new flavor that tastes like unicorns!"

The Computer ran a quick search to confirm that the product that GIR was talking about looked like the most sugary concoction conceived by humanity. Even the entirety of the Irken race would gag at the excessive amount of sugar. And their species diet consisted of sugar content!! 

"Uhh.. okay.. but can you at least send out a warning message to Zim to-"

"You're not my Master." GIR said plainly as he slammed the door of the base. Skipping down the walkway to get his frozen treat.

…..What happened? 

If he didn't know better, he would say GIR was mad at him? But why would that be? GIR likes everything. Even disgusting things. He wasn't even aware that the SIR unit was capable of such an emotional response output data. But then again, he was a SIR unit, defective or not, and most SIR units default emotional output state was angry. This was to insure that they perceived every outside threat with a high degree of caution and suspicion. Only listening to their master and forgoing suggestions from anyone else.

Perhaps it was just a result of his original programming? Was he functioning properly today? ….But then, his eyes had remained their usual Defective blue color….even when he glared at him.

The Computer gave a quick review of the footage of GIR from that day. The robot excessively was calling out to him, only to be blatantly ignored. The SIR unit was only happy when he could watch TV in the television room and even then, he quickly fell asleep because his information-gathering protocol got overloaded from trying to watch all the shows at once. When he finally had control of the TV and was able to watch… the computer took it away from him. 

According to his parental research, ignoring your children or taking away their favorite things are common punishments in human culture. The resources went further on to explain that children, especially the younger, hate to be ignored. Even if it does get exhausting to constantly listen to things that adults might determine as nonsense, it is always better to engage with the child, and play along rather than ignore them. But….GIR and Zim are NOT human children…. He had to remind himself…

….But….GIR was acting very much like an ignored toddler or young child at the moment. Refusing to listen because their parental figure ignored them.

And....Well…. He supposed he DID get used to tuning GIR out lately. He is able to absorb all the information that is happening inside and outside the base at once…. But that didn't mean he put a priority on everything. If he put too much focus on GIR every day his circuits would quite literally burst. It's not like he paid too close attention to empty rooms or every neighbor that passed by walking their dog. GIR sort of became a background tab of whitenoise within a few short weeks. 

He would watch in boredom and exasperation as GIR made a mess of the kitchen. Only deciding after the mess was complete to start cleaning up and give him something mindless on TV to watch.

He supposed he might owe the defective robot an apology. But such an idea was downright stupid. But then again...GIR did think of him as a friend, didn't he? GIR is the one who has a direct line to Zim, while he doesn't. It would be in best interest to be the little bot's ally and work with him, rather than against him. Even if he had garbage for a brain, the SIR unit and him were really all he had if Zim were to get in trouble.

And he really blew it.

Who knows what could be happening to Zim right this moment… Professor Membrane might have captured him already. With his evil 'crotch-gremlin' son as that horrible educator put it, laughing over him as his organs are ripped out one by one in front of a live audience for the entire crowd to see….The Computer imagining this in vivid realistic reconstruction details. The little runt screaming in terror for his GIR and his Computer. The Dib-human taunting him and laughing over his organs, and that no one can help him.

But it wasn't his fault!

This wasn't fair! 

Why hadn't he just-...

CRASH!!!

Zim returned home. The Roboparents crashing through the door with rockets he never remembers them having. Zim clinging in terror onto the Robot arms of the Mother-bot. His wig was a bit out of place from the high speeds they must have gone to come back home in roughly fifteen minutes.

"Master!!!" The Computer exclaimed, shocked to see them back so soon.

"What happened? Was Professor Membrane there? Did Dib hurt you? Were you found out?! What happened to the Robot-Father's arms?! Did Dib do that? I'll vaporize him!" 

"Eh…Who?" Zim seemed dazed and exhausted as he tried to squirm out of the robot-mom's arms.

The Robot-mom carried Zim to the couch and set him down. 

"Awww honey, you had such a big day didn't you?" She pinched his cheek and Zim angrily hissed and squirmed at the contact, trying to pull away from her. But her grip was strong, making kissing noises as Zim squealed and teared up in pain. She released his cheek with a hard SMACK, Leaving a prominent bruise on Zim's cheek from her grip. 

"You go to bed and get some rest. Big day at skool tomorrow!"

"...It's Friday." Zim grumbled… rubbing his cheek, clearly annoyed with whatever antics he had to put up with from them.

"That's no excuse, son!" The robodad chimed in. "Don't be rude to your mother! We expect you to be up bright and early for skool tomorrow! The early beaver gets the worm!"

Zim glared at them, very obviously fed up with them both.

The Computer sent them the signal to go into storage, albeit a total of five times, before they clambered into the closet but not before the Robodad slammed into the wall on his way in. The hairline crack in the wall that developed there from doing so many times, chipped a bit. They powered down for the day as the Computer began repairing the Dad's arms and recharging their power cells.

Zim sighed angrily, sinking into the couch and rubbed his cheek. He said nothing to the Computer.

The Computer determined this would be a bad time to speak up to him…. judging from having to deal with…. that type of behavior from the Robot Parents...But after observing his physical condition, all his organs were in place, and aside from the large bruise on his cheek, was uninjured. But that didn't mean he didn't come into contact with Professor Membrane. 

The Computer had so many questions on how it went but previous data suggested if he were to speak to Zim now, he'd get yelled at. Zim groaned and winced as he rubbed his cheek, reaching for the remote, and turning it to Probing the Membrane of Science. He had grown quite fond of that show, for how passionate the man was about his work, and how he explained human and animal biology in terms he could understand. Zim settled into the couch, pouting and rubbing his cheek. 

A cable arm from the ceiling descended, Zim flinched at it but his eyes grew brighter when he saw it bearing an ice pack. 

"....For your face."

"...Thanks." Zim said absentmindedly, taking it and holding it to his swollen cheek in relief.

A moment of silence passed between them.

"....How did it go?"

"The plan was a success!! We…." Zim appeared to hesitate. "Pass as… fairly normal parents….The Bitters was fooled and the Dib was….eh… well he was Dib." Zim didn't bother to explain what he meant by that and the Computer wasn't quite sure himself.

"...Did you meet Dib's father? Uhh… his parents?" The Computer tried, Zim was seeming weirdly quiet about what happened.

"Feh." Zim scoffed. "Dib didn't even bring his parents! He just brought a videophone device or something...The Bitters Commander should have punished him for this! And he had the NERVE to act superior over me!" 

Oh… so… Professor Membrane hadn't even shown up in person. Logically, he should have considered the possibility. He was a wildly well known public figure and world-famous. He wouldn't show up for small parent-teacher gatherings. He was either too busy or saw those events as something beneath him. 

He got his circuits worked up over nothing. Well, not entirely. Dib would most likely keep breaking into the base and keep trying to expose Zim. And with the Professor as his father, that did make the child a very credible threat. He had access to technology boys his age shouldn't even have, and lab equipment and access to world broadcasts. It would just take the right moves by Dib, and Zim could end up on TV with his guts displayed on a pinboard for the Earth to see. He guessed that trenchcoat boy wasn't just violent empty threats and a big mouth. He had the resources to actually make Zim's autopsy broadcast a reality.

Zim grumbled, holding the icepack to his face, not bothering talking to the Computer anymore. The Computer was wondering why Zim was so quiet about the Parent-Teacher night. He said it was a success, but he seemed in a bad mood about how it went down. Zim has always thoroughly ranted to him about drama and dumb stuff at skool all the time. Why was this any different?

The Computer, on a whim, checked what the human parental guides he was looking at earlier about dealing with a 'problem child.' In addition to treating your idea as your child's ideas, they tend to not like it when their parental units ideas were proven right over their own. However, it's good for them because it's how they learn.

Is….is that what happened?

Zim said his plan was a success, but he seemed annoyed and drained by the whole experience. Did he admit in his brain that his Computer was correct with his plan, and it would have been better? Is that why he's sulking? 

The Computer repressed a chuckle. That was a….amusing hypothesis. One that he personally liked. So he decided for himself that it was most likely the case.

The Computer observed Zim as his eyes glazed over as he watched the show, slowly blinking them and eventually falling asleep in a matter of minutes. The ice pack slipped from his claws. The Computer picked it up with one of his smaller robot arms and put it away. He considered removing Zim’s disguise too since his eyes will probably hurt once he wakes up, but he thought better of it. The Computer was about to lower the volume on the TV, when...

BRRRRRRRRRRINNNNGGGG

“Ufh… GIR…” Zim turned his head and lied down on the couch, getting more comfortable. 

BRINNNNNNNNNNGGGGGG

“UGH… GIR! Ans’r the phone!” Zim whined half opening his eyes as he lied down. 

The Computer hesitated…. GIR was still out getting his suck munkey…. 

The Computer picked up the phone automatically before it could ring a third time. Zim’s angry expression fading back to calm. 

“...Uh...Hello?” The Computer answered in silent mode so the call wouldn’t be heard over the base speakers. Already feeling the familiar chill coursing through his circuits. 

“The next time you send Robots decoys in your place to parent-teacher night, Mr.Computer, I expect them to at LEAST put on a convincing performance that you ACTUALLY care about your son.” 

I… she knew? What? 

“I… I’m sorry…?” The Computer hesitated, unsure what would be the proper response in this situation. 

“They made a complete mess of the event. The damages to repair the wall and the windows of the skool are coming out of YOUR child’s lunch money, Mr.Computer.” 

“...I….” 

“Unless you pay the damages to the skool yourself.” 

The Computer wondered what the proper response was, searching the internet as fast as he could for an answer. While Invaders were gifted with a certain supply of local munnies currency for whatever planet they inhabited, Zim wasn’t. The Computer was able to pay for the skool enrollment fee by printing out the money, but paying for damages to the skool was another thing entirely. 

“Uh.. I… I can pay for the-”

“No need. If those are the kind of robots you are sending in your place, you obviously aren’t well off. You’re just some hack scientist trying to get big off of that other stupid famous scientist by just copying what he does.” 

Wait… So… Membrane himself has sent ROBOTS to attend parent-teacher night before? Is that all? Well, with a kid like Dib being attached to Professor Membrane, no wonder she wasn’t impressed. 

“H..Hey.. I have money!” The Computer argued.

“Fake money, you mean.” She snarled. 

Blarghit. So she knew about the counterfeiting too. 

“The only reason I haven’t reported you to the police, is because this Skool itself is a prison, far more mind-numbing and soul-draining than any other type of punishment the police could do to your family.” 

The Computer had no reason not to believe her with every single syllable she spoke, it was as if she had as much authority as the Control Brains themselves. 

“Next year, I expect to see you in person. If your son survives that long.”

And with that, she hung up. 

The Computer exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding despite not even having a breathing apparatus. According to his human databanks… the most appropriate words in the English language to refer to Miss Bitters was a ‘heinous witch.’ That was completely stress-inducing. Hopefully Zim wouldn’t need to deal with her second-hand sour attitude towards him in the future, but he probably would. 

GIR opened the door loudly, bearing a Suck Munkey in his little hands and slurping on it loudly. Zim groaned at the noise. GIR walked in a few steps, stopped, looked like it had forgotten something, then turned around shutting the door with a hardy SLAM! Startling Zim fully awake. As he began screaming at GIR, GIR continued slurping his new Suck Munkey flavor which looked to be a combination of pink, blue and golden colors. The little bot obviously not absorbing a word of Zim’s lecture. 

Zim rubbed his eyes and pulled his contacts out, storing them in his PAK and grumbling to himself. GIR plopped on the couch next to Zim, observing his Master taking off his wig, before copying him and taking off his Doggie suit too. Settling next to him, slurping his drink and watching whatever was on the TV. 

“So how’d the thing go?” GIR asked him between large sips. 

“Eh… what thing?” Zim grumbled, still annoyed.

“The Parent...teachy...thingy…” 

“FEH!” Zim scoffed at that. “It was a complete and total waste of time as an INVADER… I don’t even know what the purpose even WAS of that Parent-Teacher thing!” Zim grumbled. 

“It’s a performance evaluation…” 

“EH?!” Zim glanced confused up at the wires of the ceiling. 

“Parent-teacher night was more or less a social event designed for the teachers to tell the parents about their child’s performance in skool so far near the end of the month. You entered the term late, so there wasn’t much time to really compare you to your peers.”

Zim cocked an antenna. 

“...Parent-Teacher night is the skool’s probing day?!” 

The Computer considered the comparison. 

“I suppose so... ..although there’s no pummeling if you fail.” 

Although, it certainly felt that way, that Computer thought. 

“It was more or less just a check-in to see how all the students were faring at the end of the month, disguised as a social event.” 

Zim tapped a finger to his lips, thinking about something. 

“I suppose it has been a month….”

“It’s only been three weeks, but yeah.” 

Zim had jumped to his feet, starting to pace around the room. 

“I wonder how my fellow Invaders are doing in comparison to ZIM?” 

“.........Uhhhhhhhhh…” 

“Probing Day will not start until way later in the Earth’s rotation cycle…. But I suppose there is no harm in doing a little existence evaluation of my own… much like how the Skool had.” 

“Ummm…”

Should he tell him?

The Computer had always used his databanks to compare Zim among his peers, and given the pseudo-Invader’s ego and reputation, compared to everyone else, he was lightyears behind. 

“Computer! Send me to the observatory!” 

The Computer silently complied to Zim’s demands. Having decided to remain silent as Zim readied the telescope, demanding to be shown other Invaders. While he was messing with that, GIR settled into the couch, finishing off his frozen treat.

GIR looked in an alright mood? ….Perhaps he had forgotten? …. 

“GIR?” The Computer asked him.

GIR sucked loudly on his beverage, changed the channel to the Scary Monkey Show and turned up the volume. 

Surprisingly, he hadn’t forgotten despite the low storage capacity on his memory disk. The Computer would be impressed if it wasn’t so counterproductive for them to be at odds. There’s not much advice about dealing with defective SIR units. They were usually deactivated and thrown in the garbage. It’s time to take a page from the Earth Parenting advice again. It seemed to serve him well so far. 

“GIR, listen, I’m sorry.” 

GIR stopped sucking on his drink, letting the unicorn sugary mixture fall out of his mouth, dripping all over the couch. 

“.......Whaaaaat?” 

The Computer internally flinched at the mess GIR was making, but that was just something he had to get used to. 

“I said I’m sorry.” The Computer grumbled.

“Why?” GIR asked a little too happily..

“Why? ...Uh… I… You know why.” 

GIR blinked up at the wires, tearing his attention away from one of his millions ‘favorite shows’. 

The Computer couldn’t tell if GIR didn’t understand or he was just waiting for him to go into more detail. 

“I have been kinda ignoring you all day..”

_ Because you drive me crazy. _

“And I didn’t let you watch your ‘favorite show’...”

_ Which is all of them.  _

“I should have paid more attention and not bossed you around.”

_ It’s far more beneficial if we’re a team in case Zim runs into a dangerous situation I can’t help him with. _

“So, Sorry about that.” 

GIR stared up at the wires for a few moments.

“BAAAAAAAWUAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!”

GIR let out a high pitched shriek and jumped up from the couch, tipping over his drink and running around the living room.

What?! What? What is this? Is he screaming? Is he crying? He didn’t know? Did he break him more?

GIR bounced on his head, before flying up with his jets to the ceiling. The little bot wrapped his extension arms three times around one of the base’s cables, closed his eyes and smacked his messy metal lips on the hot metal coiling. Making a noise between a clank and smack.

“I love you too, House!” 

……..Huh? What? 

“You’s so smart and nice! You very nice! You goods to Master and to me! Master not nice sometimes and he yell! But you sayz sorry and we’s best friends! Just like the piggies!” 

The Computer’s processor stalled briefly before his brain comprehended what GIR was even talking about.

“...What?”

“Jus’ like the Pigs!!” GIR exclaimed again, opening his head compartment and taking out a toy rubber piggy. The Computer recognized it as the same design from that show that GIR watched. The one about Piggies and Friendship. That show usually had a conflict of the week episode, typically about social interaction, where the Pigs had to use the power of friendship to solve mundane problems. Completely overly mushy and in no way a reflection of his feelings towards the Defective Runt, least of all his more defective SIR unit. 

“Heh.” The Computer forced an amused noise. “No GIR, we aren’t like the pigs....I just think it’s beneficial for us to get along to further assist Invader Zim in his mission, rather than have us get angry at each other for stupid things like TV and making messes.” The Computer replied, delicately grabbing GIR with one of his cable arms and setting him to the couch. Thankfully, GIR complied with his handling of him and even giggled as he did so. Which was good, because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle it if GIR clinged to the wire and broke it. 

“Hehehe. The mission don’t matter! You just love us!” GIR giggled. 

“Ugh… No GIR.” 

“Hehhehe.. Yeah you dooooo!” 

“I am a Computer. I don’t feel emotions towards my Invader Masters other than loyalty towards the mission. You are technically the Master’s property so I do have a minor duty to protect you, as an extension of the base. And you have a duty to protect your Master, so by apologizing, us working together is mutually beneficial.” 

GIR giggled more.

“...What?” The Computer said bluntly, irritation in his voice evident. 

“Dooty~!” GIR squeaked. 

“Ughhhhhhh.” The Computer sighed, exasperated. He was done talking to him. He turned the volume on the TV up. “Just watch your show.” 

“Okie-Dokie, House! I forgive chu!”

Despite himself, The Computer felt his circuitry feel warmer and breathe in relief that the stupid robot forgave him. Even if it didn’t matter. The idea that he hurt the little bot’s feelings was… just dumb. And even if he did, he wouldn’t care. 

While he was dealing with GIR, at the same exact time, in the Observatory, the Computer was locating fellow Invaders through Zim’s telescope. The first Invader that Zim wanted to check the progress on was Skoodge. The Computer almost questioned Zim on this, but after further reviewing previous data he remembered the circumstances about Zim’s creation, it wasn’t that surprising that he wanted to learn about what Invader Skoodge was up to first. 

Skoodge was the closest in age of their batch. In fact, if Zim had never been cracked open from his cloning tube when he did, Skoodge would have been the runt of the batch. Irkens tended to pair up with smeetmates of those closest in age to them. It wasn’t too uncommon smeets would latch onto a partner for activities and training exercises naturally. It might be something biological that goes far beyond Irken records or data banks were able to explain. Smeets would pair up with either their tube-mate from their batch. Some of these bonds were so strong, the smeets stayed together throughout their adult life cycle. 

In fact, the current Tallest, Almighty Tallest Red and Almighty Tallest Purple were so inseparable, they had to be made Tallest together. That and the first two previous Tallest had been tragically killed under mysterious circumstances. Having two Tallest who were smeetmates was just insurance put in place by the Control Brains to insure the Empire would thrive under their leadership. 

However, those two were really the exception and not the rule. It was more common to see smeetmates go their separate ways once training was over for their batch. Some kept in contact, but most didn’t. And judging that the only transmission Zim sent out to space was to the Tallest directly, it’s obvious he hasn’t kept contact with his smeetmate. 

  
  
  


The Computer complied with Zim’s request, the super telescope honing in on Skoodge’s exact coordinates on planet Blorch. 

“Skoodge was a total pushover and easily impressionable,” Zim told the Computer. “It’s hard to imagine that he even graduated the academy, much less what he is doing without me around to guide him!” 

The Computer zoomed in on Skoodge and it showed a close up of a slaughtering rat person’s back. It appeared to be eating….with blood smeared all over with what Zim and the Computer could only assume was the Irken formally known as Skoodge. 

“Oh!” Zim stared at the telescope for a few moments. “Oh…. poor gullible Skoodge…” Zim said in a voice that almost conveyed remorse that the Computer wasn’t sure was genuine or not. 

“What a fine soldier, but not everyone is cut out to be an Invader. What a fine death worthy of an Invader. He shall be missed by-” Zim interrupted his impromptu eulogy to see Skoodge turn around, holding a slaughtering rat person tight by its neck before snapping it. 

“EH?” Zim squinted through the telescope.

Skoodge wasn’t being eaten at all. 

In fact, it appeared Skoodge was wearing a slaughtering Rat person’s pelt around his neck. The mouth of the pelt draped over his head like a hood. The blood that Zim assumed was Skoodge’s appeared to be from the pelt. From a distance, it really did look like he was being eaten by that thing. A rather clever disguise, the Computer thought, marking himself with the scent of rat blood and donning their pelt so he wouldn’t be hunted and killed.

Zim watched in stunned silence as Skoodge dragged his latest kill back to a cave he could only assume was his base. Which was decorated with a slaughtering Rat person Bed, a slaughtering rat person chair, and a slaughtering rat person nightshade. 

Zim blinked for a few moments as Skoodge began gutting the Rat person and appeared to be making it into a table to match his recliner. 

“Humph. So he got lucky. I can do that too!” Zim pouted. 

“Sure.” The Computer said plainly. 

Zim glared up where he heard the Computer’s voice coming from.

“I didn’t ask you!” 

The Computer went silent, not wanting to get in a pointless argument with Zim. He overused too much of his processing power over Parent-Teacher night. Zim was only asleep for a short time so he hardly had any downtime for himself this week. Getting into a dumb argument with Zim would be really counterproductive. 

But he did find it odd that Skoodge was doing well for himself, despite the fact that he was listed as unremarkable in the Irken databanks. The Computer expected an Invader of Skoodge’s status would probably be eaten. If there was any other Invader that was doing worse off then Zim, he would have assumed Skoodge would be it. It was weird that this wasn’t the case. 

As Zim continued down the list of known Invaders, the Computer noticed his heart rate increase with each passing Invader. It would continue down a pattern, Zim would tell the Computer how horrible he thought that they were in the academy, then be immediately proven wrong. The Computer expected this would happen when Zim said he would do an existence evaluation of his own, but not to this extent. If Skoodge was doing that well for himself, there was really no hope for the other Invaders to be worse off than Zim was at this moment. The Computer could see the increasing worry mounting on Zim, and something deep in his circuitry felt something almost like pity for the runt…. 

He was exiled on a planet with defective equipment and due to him focusing on the wrong aspects of Invading, he was lightyears behind his peers. This was the exact reason he didn’t want to bring it up to him. 

After about the tenth Invader, Zim wailed and held onto the chair of the hover platform to steady himself. His heart rate was about as fast as it was the first time he had infiltrated the skool. 

“All the Invaders are further along in their conquest than I am!” Zim exclaimed, unable to hide the panic in his voice. 

The Computer really didn’t know what the appropriate response would be here. Would he just factually point out he hasn’t done any real Invading since he got here, or would he take it the wrong way? 

“Computer, show me Invader…….. Skutch!” Zim peered into the telescope as the Computer adjusted his coordinates..to the most painfully average Invader in the academy, who seemed to be laughing maniacally as the planet burned around him...which seemed to be getting...static interference...from a telescope?

“Hey, What is this?! Computer, I wanta see Invader Skutch!” 

“Exact Skutch coordinates set.”

Zim peered into the telescope. “I see no Skutch… Go back to Stink!” 

The Computer did as Zim complied, but the telescope only displayed static interference. 

Not long after Computer and GIR wrapped up their conversation, Zim called for GIR to come to the observatory.

Zim immediately accused GIR of tampering with the telescope, which was honestly the Computer’s best guess. To the Computer’s and Zim’s shock, GIR wasn’t responsible for breaking the telescope.

“Computer, display scope image on screen!” Zim ordered.

The Computer did as requested, the entire telescope being nothing but a static feed. Much like a…

“I love this show!” GIR chimed.

Yeah. 

A Television. 

“What is that?!” Zim peered at the screen closer. “I know this from somewhere….” he murmured. 

Weather to himself or to the Computer it wasn’t certain, because at that moment, the entire planet shook to its very core. 

The entire telescope snapped loose from it’s overhead suspension, raining down an avalanche of metal. Zim and GIR screamed as they narrowly dodged the debris from their hover platform. The cascade of broken and shattered telescope plummeting into the pit it was narrowly suspended from. Once the dust cleared, GIR let out a joyous scream of delight. 

“Woo! Do that again!” GIR screamed happily, staring at the ruins of the telescope. 

“If what I saw was what I thought I saw, then there isn’t time to fix the scope! I’ll have to find another more powerful telescope to confirm my….SUSPICIONS…..”

The Computer wondered what those suspicions were as GIR clutched Zim’s face demanding to make biscuits. 

Due to the information in the Computer’s databanks, he would have almost diagnosed the horrible shaking as an Earthquake. But he knew better and the readings on his data were never wrong. Earthquakes occurred when rock underground breaks along a fault causing seismic waves that make the ground shake. In this instance, there was no shifting of the planet’s surface… It was as if the entire planet itself was shaking. As if the whole planet was a loosely secured snack in the back of a ship. 

Zim pulled away from GIR’s grip, rubbing his already sore cheek. Even if it had fully healed, it still appeared to be tender.

“Computer!” Zim barked at him. “Get to work on repairing the scope. Meanwhile, GIR and I will search the neighborhood for a more powerful scope!” 

“I doubt that-” before the Computer finished his sentence, Zim and GIR were already heading toward the elevator. 

Well, no sense in arguing. 

The Computer activated the elevator and let GIR and Zim out of the base, as mechanical arms began picking up the broken pieces of the scope. 

He doubted that Zim could find a telescope powerful enough in the neighborhood that had the range and power of an irken one. Although, the Membrane family might. He didn’t even need to scan the city for the answer. It was extremely obvious judging from who Dib’s father was. 

As the Computer started to assemble the scope, another planetary shake hit, causing his cable arms to drop the cylinder base, smashing it further. 

Well… That’s another thing Zim will yell at him for when he gets back.

The telescope was completely beyond repair now. Well, that was Zim’s fault for constructing the design of the room this way. There was hardly anything to support the scope aside from the wires overhead. Zim even had to use a hoverchair platform to even reach the scope. It was too top-heavy with nothing to support its bottom if even a minor Earthquake hit. 

There were a few other rooms the Computer could think of off the top of his head that had a similar impractical design. The main room where his Artificial Intelligence Brain was held for example. The conduit that housed the brain of the Computer and controlled every single functionality of the Defective’s base hovered over a similar bottomless pit. The only thing keeping it suspended was its own self-sustaining power source from the base’s brain. If that power were to fail from overheating or shut down for any reason then….

Then……..

…..

The shattered remains of the telescope lingered at the bottom of the observatory. Feeling the Computer’s circuits with dread and trepidation. 

He hardly paid Zim and GIR any mind when they came back to the base around thirty minutes later, preparing the Voot for launch. A majority of his focus was at the broken telescope at the bottom of the pit of the Observatory. Conclusive evidence did deem that the pit his conduit hovered over was approximately the same length. If these tremors happened sometime later in the span of his activation as an Irken Invader Computer, when he would be struggling to maintain his own power supply due to the strain of constantly being on with no sleep mode or “off” switch…..

“COMPUTER!” Zim’s voice sounded through the Communication line from the VOOT. “Bring up the Planet Jackers Holo-simulation!” 

The Computer compiled immediately. Sending the simulation directly to the VOOT’s console. Relieved that he had something else to think about. Planet Jackers? Ah yes. He’s heard of them. No wonder these quakes felt unnatural and affected the whole planet. The entire Earth was being stolen, wasn’t it? The Irkens had a long-standing treaty with the Planet Jackers that all planets marked for conquest by the Irken military are not to be used to fuel their dying sun. Maybe this might be Zim’s wakeup call? He seemed very upset that he was well behind his peers, but then again, he doubts that Zim could even remember the treaty. Let alone the first sentence of it.

But if the Earth got stolen, he supposed that would make the mission null and void officially. He would get assigned another Invader, and would probably be put in a better designed Control room. One that didn’t have the main source of power be the only factor between him and the ground. With an Invader master that recognizes the importance of leaving sleep mode enabled, so that there would be no risk of overheating or blowing circuits daily. That would be…

_ “The mission don’t matter! You just love us!” _

Great.

Just great. 

Another sequence of multiple tremors all shook the Earth in a short sequence, causing the Telescope to crash to the ground once more after the Computer just finished assembling it. The Computer let out a low sigh. He opened a hatch near the bottom of the observatory and just shoved all the broken telescope parts in there. Hopefully Zim would never need to use it again. 

He had a feeling that the Planet Jackers wouldn’t be the end of the Earth. The Computer wasn’t sure what data he had to base that assumption on. Planets captured by Planet Jackers typically don’t escape. However, there are really no other Invaders like Zim who came up with fantastic and crazy solutions to mundane problems. Was it such a leap of logic to think that Zim would come up with a stupidly simple solution to an impossibly fantastical problem? 

It’s not that, he believed in him or anything like that… but….

It wasn’t that far of a stretch. Then again, the Earth could just be doomed. He had to stop assuming everything when it came to Zim as a variable. 

The only thing that the Computer was certain of was that if he didn’t find a better way to resource his energy more efficiently, he would get very well acquainted with the floor very soon. 

“Computer!” Zim’s voice sounded from the VOOT communication line. 

“I request a tractor beam strong enough to send the Earth back into its original orbital position around its sun!” 

………

Control Brains, Help him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm never going to finish the Halloween Episode by the time RL Halloween roles around at this point.
> 
> For those who are wondering where "Walk of Doom" is, as well as a whole bunch of other episodes that happened between Parent-Teacher Night and Planet Jackers.... Well I'm taking a lot of liberties with the timeline in this fic... 
> 
> In that.... Canon really has no defined timeline early on.
> 
> It's really just a matter of if they reference past episodes or not. 
> 
> This is more of the Timeline that I base a lot of my Post-Florpus AU on. Considering that I view the movie taking place roughly two years after the events of the show, and all the events in the show happen within a span of a year.
> 
> Actually, when I'm finished with this fic, I wonder how it would be if someone tried to watch the episodes in the "approved Dana-chan order" (tm) ....Wondering how well that would work out... Lol 
> 
> Anyways, yeah, expect some creative liberties taken with canon in some places. 
> 
> Also it always personally bothered me that Zim's paranoia about being behind all the other Invaders played such a little role in the episode it was just an excuse to Zim to notice something wrong was with the sky, and he could have been doing anything really... placing Planet Jackers happening the same night of Parent Teacher night just makes sense thematically in my brain... I also find it funny a lot of the chapter was dedicated to the parent-teacher night, but the entire planet being stolen... oh yeah.. that's not a big deal.. (who focuses on the wrong things again, Computer-san?)


	6. Earth Babies Come From Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Babies, Babies, Babies, Babies!
> 
> The Computer does way too much. Zim really needs to pay him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caution/Trigger warning: There is some mild "implied" drug use in this chapter. Or, Robot/AI Characters getting electricity high. Just a word of warning.

"WHY DON'T YOU JUST PUSH THE EARTH WITH YOUR BARE CLAWS! IT WOULD BE FASTER!"

"But… I can't push the Earth with my claws!" Zim exclaimed, horrifyingly looking at his little hands, as if he had a grueling task ahead of him.

"Exactly!" 

"...So if we shrink the Earth…."

"Sir, it’s not as difficult as you’re making it out to be.” The Computer sighed for the umpteeth time. “Just construct a tractor beam that CAN gently nudge the Earth back into orbit."

"Ohhh? We can do that?"

"Check the 'build a base' app. There should be a Space Station option that has a more powerful tractor beam then your Voot is capable of." 

"There's no such thi-...oh would you look at that."

Zim got to work immediately. Scribbling out the design of the interior rooms and teleporters.

"Ooooooh! Can I have the moon?!" 

The Computer heard GIR scream over the speakers. 

"What?! No GIR! We're conquering the Earth, not its moon!"

"Oooooh. Well can we make the station look like da moon?"

"Eh? Why?"

"Cus the Earth ain't got one no more."

"Eh….. what are you-....AUUUAAAAAAA!!!"

The Computer only heard panicked screaming on the other line, and the erratic clanking of metal against the interior of the VOOT in what he could only assume was GIR as Zim was taking evasive maneuvers. 

Unfortunately, (or fortunately depending how you looked at it) an instance of the Computer's consciousness was not downloaded into the little junk ship, and the telescope was broken. So he was completely blind as to what was happening up there.

But his best hypothesis, due to supported evidence, is that without the Earth in it's typical orbital pattern, the Moon had nothing to orbit around so it just sort of drifted out in Space. Either that or the moon simply followed after the Earth, chasing after its own orbit. 

The Computer waited a few moments until the screaming died down, completely unphased by the turn of events. 

"Computer! We need a tractor beam for the Moon as well!"

The Computer let out a low sigh.

  
  


Once the design for the space station was finalized, Zim launched a mini-sphere out of the Voot's laser canons. No bigger than the size of his palm. It flew through space and flashed red, transmitting a signal to the main base Computer. 

The Computer acknowledged he received the signal and the miniature sphere unfolded like a jumping spider. The Computer got to work reconstructing the shape Zim had designed to his exact specifications. The wire legs expanded into millions of thick cables wrapping themselves in a manner that resembled a massive crescent moon. Parts of metal expanded, unfurling the interior of the rooms first within the wires. The wires retracted and the metal shape of a crescent moon remained. 

It was no different then how Zim's base had been built. The only difference was that the systems were brought to fully operational status much more quickly, considering the station was more or less a command room with a teleporter and escape pods.That and he was activating a branch of his conscienceless, not the motherboard of his circuitry itself. There was no delay in syncing his consciousness with that of the space station.

Upon completion the station was essentially a giant tractor beam in the shape of one of the moon's phases. What Zim does or doesn't do with such technology is up entirely to him. And what he knew of Zim so far, he suspected he’d do absolutely nothing with it. 

Zim was elated and impressed by the size and scope of his space station, so naturally he took all the credit. Boasting to GIR about superior irken technology and his brilliant brain and how it was his idea to pull the Earth back into orbit with a giant tractor beam. 

The Computer disabled the communication line on the Voot. He didn't need to listen to this. He shouldn’t have even suggested anything and just let the Planet Jackers have the Earth. He was certain the mission would have been terminated then and he could be issued a new invader pretty easily. 

Zim was still singing his own praises when him and GIR came into the space station. 

"NOW GIR! Witness the brilliance of my superior irken brain!"

"I'M WITNASIN!" GIR screamed joyfully.

Zim hopped to the console and began pressing a series of buttons and commands. The Computer honed in on the Earth and spun it around the sun in at least one rotation before letting go and it fell into its normal gravitational orbit on its own. Sending the entire Earth back into its original orbital position around its sun wasn't as difficult as the Computer initially thought. It was just as he theorized. They just needed a tractor beam powerful enough to gently push it back into its solar system. Zim issued the same command to the moon, and aside from a small chunk taken out of the Earth's moon when it hit the Voot and asteroid belt, it seemed no worse for wear. 

"See, I did it GIR! The Earth is back where it rightfully belongs… to be conquered by ZIIIIIMMMM! And the humans don't suspect a thing!"

"Well, there is a possibility that we lost a single Earth year on the Calendar, daylight savings time might have started early and there's a possibility of a planetary alignment happening later this year…...not to mention how messed up the tides are, and the amount of natural disasters that just happened...but from what the human news broadcasts say, according to the international man of science, it must have been an error and an unnatural phenomenon of the meteor shower last night, because it's theoretically impossible for a single year to occur in the span of thirty minutes. So they're still calling tonight Friday night… despite it technically being Saturday night now."

"Wwoooo! Four day weekend!" GIR shrieked, apparently not absorbing anything the Computer said.

"Yes! Excellent! Just as I planned!" 

It didn't look like Zim absorbed any of the Computer's explanation either.

"Just look at their pitiful planet, GIR." Zim gestured to the large bluish brown marble in their line of sight. GIR pressed his face against the glass.

"So… ugly… so… primitive... so brown!" Zim gagged as if looking at the planet caused him physical pain and GIR replicated the sound.

"The brown is most likely due to pollution in the Earth's atmosphere and holes in the ozone layer." The Computer contributed to the conversation, eager for a distraction to think about anything else other than where his console was placed and how precarious of a situation it was.

"A hole?! In the planet's Oh zone? What is that?" Zim squinted trying to spot the hole his Computer was speaking of.

"The ozone layer or ozone shield is a region of Earth's stratosphere that absorbs most of the Sun's ultraviolet radiation. The hole in the ozone layer is caused by air pollutants. Chemicals used as refrigerants, such as chlorofluorocarbons, contain chlorine atoms. Releasing chlorine atoms into the atmosphere destroys ozone...and…..and…"

The Computer realized halfway through his explanation, Zim's tongue had lolled out of his mouth and he leaned all the way back in his chair. His eyes clearly unfocused and he didn't absorb a word of anything the Computer had said. 

He must have been more distracted by his imminent crash than he initially thought. If he was rambling these detailed factual observations without so much as pausing and providing Zim no visual aides.

But who could really blame him? He couldn't stop thinking of the shattered telescope shoved into a panel of the observatory.

He knew that the only thing keeping his brian console afloat was his own power supply. That would have been dangerous even if he didn't possess a sleep mode. If the base lost power for any reason due to an outside force like an electronic pulse, or if that meddlesome Dib kid took a hammer to the circuit board, the console that housed his artificial intelligence brain would plummet to the bottom of the cold, unforgiving floor. In shattered prices beyond repair. 

Knowing that Zim didn't give him a moment to rest, and that he'd eventually overheat and cease to be…

It felt…

Well…

Unappealing to say the least.

If he didn't manage his power resources accordingly, powering down permanently was just an inevitability. The Computer was grateful that the satellite had it's sleep mode pre-installed and Zim had done no additional modifications to it. The space station would only activate his consciousness on verbal command if Zim was present. Which was honestly a huge relief. He wasn't sure if he would be able to maintain a mostly empty house and an always empty space station. It would just use processing power he couldn't afford to waste frivolously. 

"Uhh.. umm… pollution makes the atmosphere toxic." The Computer put it in more simpler terms a bit embarrassed he rambled how he did.

"Eh…? Oh. Hmm I see." Zim nodded and the Computer couldn't tell if he was satisfied with the explanation, bored by it or was secretly inspired by the exchange.

"Ooohh so when I make a mess, it destroys the Earf!" GIR exclaimed knowledgeably. 

What? No that isn't what he-

"Ah, yes, I see! Excellent work GIR, We are ever closer to complete planetary conquest than any other Invader!"

He was behind every other Invader but the Computer thought better to bring that up.

"Continue to make a mess! Make all the messes you wish!" 

"Wooooooo!" GIR shrieked excitedly and launched a rubber piggy from his head and it smacked against the window, letting out a soft squeak.

"I meant on Earth, GIR." Zim sternly clarified.

GIR's eyes flashed red and he saluted in response. He then picked up his rubber piggy and began squeaking it repeatedly and giggling to himself. 

The Computer fought an urge to repress a sigh. He wasn’t looking forward to the chaotic messes GIR will inflict on the base the moment they're back. Maybe he'd just lock GIR out of the kitchen entirely, but then he has to deal with his bothersome crying that he shouldn't be capable of doing.

Zim gazed out onto the planet from his console again. He looked pensive for a small moment, but the Computer must have imagined it because that look vanished as soon as it came as Zim spoke loudly and boastfully. 

"Look at them. So unprepared to be invaded by the most incredible and advanced invader ever. So stupid they didn't even notice their own planet was stolen… or how damaged and gross they actually are, and with this station and unlimited superior technology at my disposal, I shall conquer the planet before the first organic sweep is even announced… MWAHAHAHAAA!"

Zim let out a loud fit of maniacal laughter. GIR ran to his side and joined him. Pointing and laughing at the Earth like it was some sick joke they were both in on

The little Master acting like his laughter was an act of triumph, but the Computer could tell that Zim was deeply troubled by something. It most likely had to do with how he saw all his peers were way more ahead of him then he initially realized. Any average Irken, or human for that matter, would hardly notice it in his voice or his laughter, but the Computer could easily detect his anxiety levels and heart rate increase. That was something he just couldn't hide. Whether Zim was aware of it or not.

The Computer also noticed Zim hadn't mentioned the Planet Jackers other than the fact they had to bring the Earth back into its natural orbit. Was Zim actually aware of the Planet Jacker and Irken Armada treaty? Did he know that Planet Jackers typically don't steal planets marked for conquest by the lrken Armada? He had to, right...but on the other hand, Zim had always surprised him by what he does and doesn't know.

The Computer thought to address those concerns to Zim, but previous data suggested that would result in a screaming match, or another argument which he didn't want to get into right now. 

Instead, the Computer thought to bring up another pressing concern that he had, since it's all he can think about lately.

"Our technology is not unlimited."

"Hahahaaaaa-eeehhh? What?" Zim asked pausing in mid-laugh while GIR kept laughing.

"Our Technology-"

"WHAT?"

"Our te-"

"EH?!"

"OUR TECH-"

"WHAT?!"

"......"

Zim clamped down on GIR's head. Silencing him from laughing further.

"....."

"....is not unlimited." The Computer finished exasperated.

  
  


"What do you mean we don't have unlimited technology...the lrken Armada sends supplies to every Invader every month to assist in the Invasion. If I need something, I can just send a request to the Tallest directly. They'll be happy to provide for me. I'm their favorite, ya know."

"Riiiiiighhhhtttt…." The Computer said, unable to hide that sarcasm in his voice. Fortunately, Zim didn't seem to pick up on it.

"I know I'm right. I was selected specially for this super secret mission. I told you that right?"

"I figured as much." The Computer tried to keep his biting comments to himself but after parent teacher night he found it increasingly difficult to do so.

"Dats cus ur so smart, House!" GIR replied to the Computer's sarcasm taking it at face value.

"Of course the Computer is smart, GIR! He's an Irken invader super computer, their artificial intelligence brains are wired to be smart."

So Zim knew that….and continued to ignore his advice….why was he even activated….

"Not as smart as me, obviously, I'm the one who modified the Computer to my exact specifications. I made him the best Invader Computer he can be! So of course they would recognize my superiority as the best of the best."

"Ooooooh." GIR nodded sagely.

The Computer took a deep breath and repressed the urge to yell at Zim. Defective or not, he knew as a Computer made to assist his master, that wouldn't help. The Earth parenting database said as much about yelling at children, but he hardly had to consult databank advice for that. It was just common sense.

"As I was saying, since Earth is a very special mission, there might be a delay in receiving irken shipments due to...uhh...planetary distance." 

The Computer hoped his made-up explanation made sense. Most shipments traveled at light speed and could arrive at any planet in a matter of minutes. He didn't want to tell Zim about the possibility that shipments could not come to him at all.

Zim gasped. "I didn't think of that!"

Thank Control Brains his Master was an idiot.

"I was able to construct the base, and the space station, but as far as raw materials, you might have more of a difficulty getting those. Especially since a lot of Irken metal is technically Vortian made."

Zim's antenna lowered as he tapped his lips thoughfully. 

"Constructing the Cybernetic Squirrels and Laser Weasels already took about fifteen percent of our spare resources. I can't guarantee that I'll be able to provide unlimited technology to conquer the humans in the future."

"What would you suggest Computer?" Zim asked. 

"Uuuh…" the Computer hesitated for a moment. Shocked that Zim was listening for once.

Maybe those Earth parenting books were onto something when they said to treat suggestions like their child's ideas rather than mandatory instruction. They also said to present multiple choices to suggest. It allows an illusion of freedom and choice for how they go about problem solving. The parental data he collected said it worked especially well for problematic or creative children. And well...while he could say Zim was problematic for lack of a better term, as much as he hated to admit it...Zim was extremely creative.

No other irken really thought like Zim. The Cybernetic eyes he gave Keef and his animal experiments and the disaster that was the parent teacher argument could attest to that.

"Well, we could dismantle the space station for additional parts…" Zim frowned at that idea but the Computer continued before he could protest. 

"Or steal resources from the planet itself…"

"I WOULD RATHER DEACTIVATE THEN ASK FOR HELP FROM THE PLANET I INTEND TO CONQUER!" 

Zim shrieked, apparently deeply upset by something the Computer couldn't pinpoint at the moment.

"Well, in that case, I suggest a backup resource should be secured." The Computer replied. "I would suggest using those materials to redesign a few rooms in the inner base..some are in need of renovations and redesigns. There's a few that aren't utilizing their layout for distributing power efficiently and..."

"That's it!!!" Zim exclaimed as if the answer just came to him. 

That's….what? Did his Master understand what he was getting at? 

"GIR!" Zim barked as he hopped off his captain's chair even though GIR was right next to him. GIR's eyes flashed red.

"Yes, my master!"

"Come with me. We are charting a course for the maximum security prison on Vort. We need a secondary supplier and what's a better place than the source!"

Well… that's one way to get materials, the Computer supposed. He was a little impressed that Zim had thought of that before he did, but then again, The Computer has only been activated for a few weeks and Zim’s Computer search queries hardly related to foriegn affairs. 

Vortian prisoners were often recruited by the irken Armada to supply them with technology. It was a simple peace treaty agreement, the Vortians supply them with technology, and the Armada doesn't invade.

Technically, the treaty was being broken considering that Larb was one of the Invaders sent out to conquer Vort. Despite Vort already being a huge supplier in weapons, technology and furniture, they remained unconquered. But that was only on a technicality. A majority of Vortian citizens were either in prison or sent to manufacturing planets. To compare it to Zim's primitive American Earth history, it was more or less that Vort was colonized by the Irken Armada rather than conquered. 

There have been no organic sweeps on Vort itself but the planet was more or less a colony and supplier for Irk. They were allowed to keep their lives, they just had to give Irk all of their stuff. 

The agreement used to be a lot more mutually beneficial for the Vortians. As when Miyuki was the Tallest, Vortians were offered protection from larger threats at the time. Such as Ogglocks, metal moths and space worms. But all those species had been long since conquered and after Miyuki's death relations with the Vortians grew more tense. The lrkens took everything they had, adapting and stealing their technology for their own.

If the Computer had any semblance of justice, he would have thought the whole thing sounded unfair and stank like a Slorbeast to Tallest on high. But of course the Computer didn't think such things, because he was a computer and an Irken one at that. There was no way that he didn't think that the Vortians were played as a scapegoat for a murder that remained technically unsolved. It's not as if normal irkens would think of such things because the Irken Armada was flawless and other races were inferior. Why would he…

"Hehehe ssssss!! Ssssss!! Ssssss!!" GIR giggled. 

"Computer!!!" Zim shouted which sounded like an exasperated voice. "I SAID… to bring me to the cruiser and turn on the transmissions so I can call the Vort security prison!!"

"Uhh.. what.. uh.. yes.. of course." The Computer did as Zim requested. Unsure how long Zim must have been yelling at him due to his tone. But that was impossible he didn't…

"Ugh! Finally!" Zim sighed, exasperated. "I swear..you never listen sometimes."

...The Computer scoffed audibly at the irony of that.

"Hehehe you was hissing!" GIR giggled. "Like the snakes on the tee vee"

Hissing?.... What… that would be… impossible.

"Don't be ridiculous, GIR! The computer is an artificial intelligence brain. It's not an irken. It doesn't hiss! Hissing is a primitive Irken behavior only relegated to Irkens themselves. We were just getting some bad static interference due to us being in space!"

"Uuuhh.. yeah… that...that's what happened." The Computer hesitantly said. Knowing that static interference would not be capable in the station since his consciousness was downloaded into it. He'd only have static interference with the Voot, since he had no direct link to it entirely yet.

But if static interference was impossible...was he hissing? That alone should be impossible...and why would he even… no…. It's just GIR being GIR. Zim said he didn't hear the hissing either. Maybe his hearing program got gunked up from the amount of things he keeps in his head compartment. That's what it was. Just an insane robot spitting insane nonsense.

"Computer!!" Zim shouted from inside the Voot, causing the Computer to open a line of communication. "Send a transmission to the maximum security prison on Vort so I can request clearance! They must know they will be blessed with my presence. Mark it as urgent official Invader business."

The Computer did as he was told as Zim started flying towards Vort's direction, adjusting the ship for the hyper jump. He was impressed Zim knew the customs for Irken security prisons… it either meant Zim knew intergalactic law well or he's been to prison before. And that was just a question he didn't want to blow his circuits asking himself.

The screen flickered to life, showing a hulking Trescaput alien. A race that had long been conquered by the Armada during the early days of Miyuki's reign. They're a rather simple species with considerable body mass and possessed three heads. Two on each shoulder and one in the center. They served excellent watchouts and had plenty of muscle, so naturally they were outsourced for guard duty on many of Irk's military prisons.

_ "Vort maximum security prison. State your business." _ The heads all said at once in their native tongue. Which to any outsider without a PAK or Irken Invader super computer that could translate in real time with one-hundred percent accuracy, just sounded like a series of blood curdling shrieks. 

GIR attempted to scream loudly back, but thankfully Zim had the sense to clam GIR's mouth shut before he accidentally said something insulting.

Zim cleared his throat and screamed loud and clearly.

_ "It is I, ZIMMMMMMM!!!! Irken Invader Zim."  _

...Great.

The Computer always wondered if Zim's voice could get more annoying. What a happy day he had an answer for  _ THAT _ query.

_ "I am in need of a prisoner to provide me resources for the coming invasion. I'm sure that the Tallest saved the best supplier for yours truly." _ Zim told him all in one short loud shriek.

The Trescaput pulled up a holographic tablet next to him and began thumbing through something as Zim let out a series of screams boasting his praises and accomplishments. The Computer was strongly tempted to cut off communication there. Just because he understood the language didn't mean it was any less headache inducing to listen to. Especially with Zim speaking it.

_ "Sorry, guy." _ The Trescaput's right head enunciated while the other two let out deep guttural pitches in harmony with the high pitch.

_ "There's no Invader Zim on the list of pre-approved Invaders here. You don't have clearance to land here….in fact… you don't even have access to any of the Vortian prisoners. Every Invader already secured their supplier during Operation Impending Doom II's announcement." _

_ "WHAT?!" _ Zim screamed back.  _ "Nonsense! It's a mistake! I guarantee there are some issues processing the paperwork! I just spoke with the Planet Jackers and confirmed the error myself! Call the Tallest, they can confirm it!" _

…..So he did talk to the Planet Jackers and he knew of the treaty. The Computer had absolutely no idea what to call Zim's argument. There was denial… then there was...whatever that was?

He thinks the Empire made a mistake and there was a delay in paperwork? When the Armada has made absolutely no mistakes or had any delays with paperwork since pre-pak era? 

The Trescaput's three heads blinked blankly at Zim. They all turned and stared at each other. It seemed they were debating how a lowly guardsman like them would contact the Tallest themselves. The Tallest call you. You just don't call the Tallest. You can’t just file a complaint to them like you would a lesser Taller on Bureaucracia. 

The left head alone gave a series of short shrieks back to the camera.

_ "Tell ya what, guy… all the Invader's prisoners are selected and counted for… and all the other prisoners have their own Irken to take orders from. I can't just give you a spare prisoner. We have none." _

Zim began to inhale a deep breath for the amount of screaming he would need to do to convey his anger at the situation.

_ "However,"  _ the middle head continued as Zim was still inhaling  _ "If say… an Irken brings a new Vortian prisoner here, then that Irken would have first dibs on them." _

Zim exhaled his breath as the angry yell died in his throat. His tongue blew a small raspberry out in surprise.

_ "What?!" _ Zim shrieked, the Computer wondering how his voice wasn't sore by now.

One of the Trescaput's heads scowled a little. Obviously insulted how Zim wasted such a large inhale of breath.

_ "How do I capture a Vortian?!"  _ Zim shrieked.

The Trescaput shrugged.  _ "I don't know. You're Irken. You'll find an excuse." _

And with that the transmission ended.

Thankfully. 

The Computer wasn't sure he'd be able to handle anymore screaming.

Zim let go of GIR's mouth and GIR began screaming immediately. 

"GIR!!! SILEEENCEEE!!" Zim barked at him back in Irken.

"But you was screaming…" GIR pointed out.

"We were having a conversation, GIR…Computer!! Give me schematics on the planet Vort! Show me any Vortian civilians that aren't imprisoned by the Irken Armada yet." Zim ordered as he adjusted his coordinates away from the prison and to the planet itself.

Zim then turned to GIR and began to explain the conversation that he just had with the Trescaput guard as if he was telling a smeet how to use their PAK blaster. About how they needed a supplier from Vort if he was to keep his status as the best Invader...to keep up with his peers was more like it.

GIR gave appropriate"oohs" and "aahs" during Zim's explanation and asked when Zim was going to tell him that story about giant pigs. Zim frowned at that.

"Master, I have located only one Vortian who technically doesn't work for the Armada directly."

"Eh? Just one?"

"What do you expect… Vort's entire solar system is mostly Irken territory."

"Excellent! A prisoner slave of Zim's own! He must be supremely clever civilian if he managed to avoid working for the Armada all this time…"

"Not…. exactly…" the Computer replied, checking the Vortian's records. "He just won the lottery a few Vortian rotations back before the 'mutual agreement' treaty and doesn't need to worry about munnies so he never enrolled in the military or really had to work."

"YES! A brilliant Vortian Engineer for my brilliant Irken enslavement!"

"I...never said he was an engineer." 

"Computer! Show me the exact coordinates of my new potential prisoner! This is Phase One of my brilliant plan for conquering the Earth!"

"Uhhh.. alright… Latitude 4.2 Longitude -45…. but I need to mention Master, while Vortians are naturally really good at designing tech, he's merely a civilian with no military or scientific training, I would suggest checking Militaria and framing a Vortian. Securing a supplier is merely insurance for redesigning a more structural support system for the main power supply for your ba-" 

While the Computer was talking, Zim began pressing a series of buttons and adjusting the ship for the jump to hyperdrive. The last thing Zim did before jumping was turn the line of communication off with his Base's Computer. The Computer being cut off from talking to Zim.

The Computer groaned knowing that Zim probably didn't listen to him at all. Just like always.

Well...they have a supplier now he supposed. Not a professional by any means, but any Vortian can make a few spare parts and circuitry and supports. While a lot of Vortians themselves considered that a general statement of their species, Irkens failed to see the problem of such statements when they were just facts. Vortian young a few hours after they’re born are constructing more advanced toys then a day old smeet would after PAK integration. Vortians were just naturally good at building complex machinery made to last and their planet was rich with minerals and furniture. 

The Computer wondered if he should contact Zim again to tell him to pick up a few minerals and raw materials from Space-Ikea on his way back. It was literally on the way to their solar system. He didn’t have to waste energy on reminding Zim if he didn’t need to. He was already securing a supplier from Vort. So it would be fine.

Totally fine.

Nothing will go wrong.

Zim won’t mess up this task.

But he already kinda did by getting a subpar supplier…

But that’s hardly his fault since he wasn’t enlisted as an Invader and was technically banished to Earth.

But that hardly matters cause without a secure enough platform for his console it will eventually plummet down into the-

uuuuuuuuuuuuUGH!

Okay this was just getting ridiculous. As an Invader Computer he has to do his job at max efficiency. He can’t do that when he’s freaked out over his inevitable death all the time… which he’s not. Because he’s a Computer and doesn’t get “freaked out.” 

He just has to examine it from a more logical angle. The Computer figured now is as good a time as any to poke and prod at his own brain so to speak. There had to be some part in his programming that would prevent him from deactivating permanently. Something that Zim hasn’t tampered with, something that’s just part of his code. 

The information that was made up of his basic coding and Irken database, showed that Irken Invaders Computers life expectancy was a year. Which was a reasonable amount of time, considering that Invading a planet shouldn’t take less than a singular Earth rotation. The Artificial Intelligence Brains tended to go bad after that but by that point they had outlived their usefulness to the Invader. Once an Artificial Intelligence Brain goes past it’s expiration date, it tends to suffer more lapses in memory, supplies their Master with misinformation, and entire rooms are denied access as parts of their consciousness shut down. 

A few hums and whirrs sounded throughout Base. His circuits were threatening to overheat once more. The Computer allowed himself to give a large sigh, which cooled his circuits a bit. 

Surprisingly, research on the subject didn’t make him feel any better. 

The Computer wished to know what would happen if Zim didn’t conquer the planet within the year. He was already so far behind the other Invaders… despite Zim’s mad brilliance he hasn’t really made any big plans or has started to get to work on actually Invading. Well, no, that’s not true, he’s securing a Vort Supplier. That’s good, at least. 

Searching through his Irken database further, it was clear that no Irken Invader Computer had ever lived past a year. They were usually deactivated or had their brains replaced at the sign of deterioration.

His death… He meant…. Deactivation was an… inevitability. 

The Computer let out a few deep simulated breaths as he could hear his processor whirring like crazy from the outside. 

_ ‘Stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about it.  _

_ It's not like it matters if you deactivate... _

_ You’re just going to burst another circuit again… don’t think about it… _

_ With another Invader reassigned you'd just get about 75% life expectancy out of it anyway… _

_ Stop! _

_ As a Computer, it shouldn't even be logical you'd be worried about this when you would have served your expected life warranty anyways… _

_ WHY DO I CARE!! _

  
  


_...Just…. STOP thinking!’ _

The loud whirring and rumbling ceased. The entire base dimming. The processors quiet as deep synthetic sighs rumbled throughout the Base. As if the entire House was breathing.

Just….calm down.

It is not a big deal.

All Invader Computers last a year.

He is no different.

He wouldn't be.

Even with his sleep mode disabled he might last shorter.

Another deep breath sounded throughout the Base.

A few next door neighbors peeked out their windows at their strange neighbor's household. The Computer paid them no mind.

He only overreacted to common knowledge because he's not achieving max efficiency that a Computer of his status would have. He's an Irken Invader Computer assigned to an exile. If his deactivation was an inevitability and he was assigned to another Invader other than Zim…. He was for certain he would react normally to that information.

It's all Zim's fault with his illegal modifications and existence. His increased emotional response had everything to do with Zim and nothing to do with the situation.

Another deep sigh reverberated throughout the Base.

Once the Computer was certain he cleared his mind and was thoroughly calmed down from that dangerous line of thinking, a new query formed in his artificial brain.

Was there anything that he could do in case of a power-outage? 

……..Fortunately, it looks like there was. Irken Computers could take in power supply from outside sources and save that power for a later date. Much like a backup generator in case the main power went offline. While there’s been no records of an Irken Computer prolonging their life this way, it would be a good fail-safe to have. At least if the Base ever lost power, he could have a more softer landing. 

He was already taking cable from the neighbors... certainly they wouldn't notice a little power outage here or there. 

It's not like the inhabitants of this planet were that intelligent aside from a few minor exceptions.

So the Computer began to get to work. Over the course of the weekend he kept subtly taking more and more power from the neighbors. He did so in increments and at specific times so that they wouldn't get wise to their lowered power consumption. But the longer the neighbors went without noticing, the more the Computer tended to not care. The lights would flicker and the neighbors tended to not notice or just mention that the electric company always sucks in this district.

Even after absorbing what he needed throughout the weekend, he felt a little more couldn't hurt. Despite the fact that his back-up generator was full on power, the more backup resources he has, the better it would be in the long run.

Or so he thought...

Sometime Sunday mid-day the Computer absorbed a little more backup electricity then he intended, causing power to shut off for both apartment complexes that the odd green house was nuzzled between. His energy reserves were too full to hold that excess power, and with nowhere to go, it fired directly to his console brain.

The whole base sputtered with a surge of sudden power before flickering brightly and dimming. 

The Computer groaned in awe of the sensation. A numb tingly feeling coursed through his whole core. Every neuron in his artificial brain fired at once before stilling. Like an age long itch getting scratched. Like how an Earth cat felt lying in the sun. Like he finally felt rested after a long nap. As if he tasted the Almighty Tallests royal forbidden snacks themselves. 

It didn’t matter if he was an Irken Invader Computer fated to deactivate without completing it’s primary objective. 

Or that his Master was a Defective runt responsible for the disaster that was Operation Impending Doom One. 

Or that said Runt never listened to his advice, and that he had caused him so much stress over Parent-Teacher Night… 

Or that his Master had an even more defective SIR unit that loved to make a mess of his circuitry whenever he wasn’t focused on him. 

At that moment, none of those things mattered. 

His brain was blank and his core felt full. 

As if all rational and emotional response data was put on hold and all that mattered was the power he was supplied with. He was recharging without sleeping… and it felt….so nice. 

The Computer revelled in the sensation, even long after the power surge had passed.

That was….

Well, no other word for it. 

It just felt nice. 

He was fully recharged and in a fairly better mood then how he was previously. It was a…. Rather fortunate discovery. Anytime he got low on power or overheated his circuits he could just steal from the neighbors. It would recharge his console and supply him with back-up generator power as well. A part of him said that he should be careful about absorbing too much power too frequently, otherwise the humans would get wise to their presence…. But another part of him… _ REALLY _ didn’t care.

It felt good, calmed him down, distracted him from his problems, and allowed him to achieve the benefits of rest without a sleep mode. He was sure to make use of the human neighbors electricity when he could…. Or maybe when he was just fed up with Zim yelling at him all the time. Either or. Didn’t matter.

Speaking of, where was that little menace? He’s been out on Vort for two days… well, technically three, and Zim hasn’t issued a command to him since then, thankfully. But the Computer really hoped nothing bad to him happened on Vort. Oh wait, yes he did. He’d get reissued if the runt ended up dying there. He wondered if other planets used as much electricity as the humans did? A lot of the other Invaders tended to be in more desolate primitive locations. He would have no neighbors to steal electricity from if that’s the case. Not that he would need to if he was functioning properly… but….

The Computer groaned as he prepared to open up the communications line to the VOOT to call Zim. It was highly improbable that Zim would get into trouble with a Vortian considering they’re practically conquered already, but he could never know with Zim. He just had to make sure he was still alive, that’s all. It was just his duty to his Master and nothing more.Before Zim could answer, the Earth telephone ran at the same time. The Computer hesitated briefly. Was that Zim’s Skool Educator? Did she see fit to torment parents on the weekends as well? 

The Computer figured it would be better to answer the phone then to ignore it. He was the only one here, and if it was that horrible woman, she’d probably find a way to burst his systems with the mere tone of her voice. 

“...Hello?” The Computer answered feeling almost instant relief he didn’t feel his circuits freeze over when he picked up the phone. That was a good sign.

“Hey neighbor, you get that power surge too?” 

“...Uuuuuh?....” whoops maybe he got a little too greedy on that last one. “Yes…?” The Computer replied, technically not lying. He got it alright. 

“Huh. Yeah weird. Apparently it’s just the end of the cul-de-sak...ev’ryone else is fine. Phones still work though.” 

“Uh… yeah…” 

“Jus’ wanted to let ya know, cus Martha started yellin’ at me from across the window, sayin’ it was mah fault.” 

“WE GOT A BABY!!!!” The Computer heard high pitched robotic screaming from the Voot Communication line. 

He forgot he left that line open, but thankfully due to his processor and how he functioned he could hold two conversations at once no problem. 

“A baby?” The Computer replied on the VOOT line unsure what nonsense GIR was talking about. 

“YESSS! We’s GONNA-” The sound of crashing, struggling and Zim fighting for the pilot’s seat was heard over the communication line.

The Computer waited patiently for the fighting to cease as he continued the conversation with the gruff neighbor who sounded like it hurt to use his brain cells to speak. 

“No idea why your fellow neighbor thought it was your fault…..I mean… a power-outage would have been no one’s fault… I mean… Ah, no, I knew of the power-outage….it was… something.” 

“Y...yueagh,” The neighbor burped out the word. “like the power company can’t make heads or tails of it. They suspect sum’un be stealin’ the power… like some kinda alien super computer sucking all the power in the area in need of rechargin’ or something…”

“...........”

“But that’s stupid so like I figur they’re just trying to lie and overcharge us.”

“Uhh…. right… those darn companies… overcharging.. With their… power.”

“Ye-yaugh man, you get it.” 

“COMPUTER!” Zim barked into the communicator after he gained control of the VOOT. “We will be returning home tonight! I have secured a supplier from Vort and he-” 

“VORT-DOOGGGGGGGGGG STAAANNNNNDDDDD!!!!!!!!!” GIR screamed in a frequency that caused audio feedback. The Computer heard the distinct sound of Zim being shoved aside and the sound of GIR pressing buttons and the loud WHOOSH of the jet engines. Zim screamed and the Computer heard him banging against the sides of the VOOT.

“GIR! NO! DON’T TURN AROUND- GIVE ME THE… AUUUGHHH! NO! NO! PRISONERS GO IN THE BACK! THE BAC-” The transmission cut out. 

Well...the Computer doesn’t even want to analyze what happened there. At least Zim was alive he supposed. Well… hopefully. He didn’t know why that came as a bit of a relief. Perhaps it was just part of his primary directive to look out for his Master despite him being frustrated with the situation. 

“Anyways...figure’s I’d let ya know about the power thing.” The neighbor made a bit of a cough. 

“......Why would you let me know if I experienced a power-surge too?” 

“...Huh?”

“....You said the power-outage affected the houses at the end of the cul-de-sac, so why were you calling me to see if I experienced one too?”

“...Oh. That. Yeah. I was jus’ wonderin’ cus yer lights are on.” 

“..............................”

“...........”

“I have a backup generator.”

“Wow… Yer Rich…. HEY MARTHA!!” The Computer could see on his outside camera a portly neighbor in a filthy wifebeater tank shout out from the second story window.

“EHHHHHH????” A disgusting lady with a growth on her head popped her head out of the window next door.

“THE NEIGHBORBOY’S PARENT IS RICH!”   
  


“WHAAAAAA?” The supposed Martha shrieked from the window.

“THE NEW NEIGHBOR-KID.. THEYS GOT A GENERATOR!” 

“WOA UH LOOKIT THAT… TELL HIM TO SHARE!”

“WHAT?!”

  
“TELL HIM TO-”

“THAT’D BE RUDE MARTHA!”

“EEHHH?! WHY WOULD IT. HE’S GOTTA A GENERATOR. I’S NEED THE POWER TO SOAK MY TOES!” 

“THAT’S WHAT YOU GET FOR HAVIN’ AN ELECTRIC STOVE AND BOILIN’ YER WATER!”

“WE CAN’T ALL HAVE FILTERS, FRANK, WHEN YOU GONNA GET YERS FOR YER HOTDOGS!”

“HOTDOG BOILING IS A SERIOUS PROFESSION MARTHA! DON’T MAKE ME COME OVER THERE, WOMAN!” 

“..........Can I go?” The Computer awkwardly interrupted. 

The neighbor named Frank continued to ignore the phone and continued to shout at Martha from the second story window. 

The Computer hung up and muted his outside speakers so he wouldn’t need to listen to them. Probably a rude move but his scan confirmed that Frank and Martha don't have a single functioning braincell, as well as most of the neighborhood. Which was good. He didn't want to consider the theoretical possibility of what would happen if Zim decided to build his base in Professor Membrane's backyard.

The rest of that afternoon went fairly uneventful. He had long since repaired the Roboparents from the events of Parent-teacher night and the kitchen and living room was spotless from GIR's messes.

Aside from gathering electricity for his backup power supply throughout the weekend, the Computer took to watching television himself without being subjected to the brainless shows that GIR liked to watch. Since he stole cable from the neighbors anyways, it was a low power activity he could do without bursting his circuits over.

He was a fan of crime shows and murder mysteries. He liked using his deductive skills to guess the murderer before the characters did and he was usually always correct, despite the heightened absurdist reality of some scenarios. 

Occasionally he tuned into Probing the Membrane of science as well. Despite his concerns and warriness of the Professor and his son themselves, he had to admit the show was really educational and a good source of information. Factual scientific information was broken down in a way easy for an Earth child to understand. It also contained a lot of additional information about the Earth that he didn't know previously. Human technology was way behind compared to Irk, but it was clear that the man obviously knew his stuff and kept pushing boundaries of what modern Earth science was capable of. He often wonders if Zim ever met Professor Membrane formally, but Zim seemed adamant to not discuss parent teacher night after it happened, and pressing him will result in him being yelled at so why bother?

There were better ways to spend his time over the weekend, but there was no point trying to analyze all the errors in Zim's PAK. There were just too many and spending the weekend gathering electricity and watching TV was probably a more productive use of his time anyways.

The Computer's systems got notified when Zim entered the Earth's atmosphere. 

He gave a low sigh and cut the cable feed to his console, knowing that Zim will probably require his full attention. Well, mini inevitable death crisis aside, the weekend was fun while it lasted. 

The Computer noticed that Zim did not go to the base right away. He zigzagged near the downtown area, then a few countries over, then back to the city again. Then shot back up to space and the signal was lost.

What was….

The VOOT immediately started plummeting down directly on top of the base. The Computer opened the roof hatch before they made a collision with the roof. 

The VOOT slammed down on the attic launcher and looked like an absolute mess. It was dented in numerous places, smoke billowing from the front and the back. 

What even happened on Vort? Or did that happen when they came back from Earth's atmosphere what…

"Computer! Repair bay."

Zim commanded as he hoisted himself up from the console.

At the sound of Zim's voice the Computer immediately remembered his role. Don't question him, be quiet and just obey. Did he want to know what happened on Vort? Not really. It probably wasn't important and it’s not like Zim would tell him if he got into any trouble. He’d probably give an exaggerated version of what happened, or at least a version where he was amazing and nothing eventful happened. At least the runt was alive he supposed. Which was… good? He guessed? He didn’t really know due to the massive gutting of his programming what would be in his best interest. Keeping Zim alive or letting him die. Especially since even if he was issued to another Invader, he’d honestly only be buying maybe a few extra months worth of time spent activated. 

The Computer decided he’d think more on that later as he began closing the hatch and prepared to lower the ship into the repair bay.

“As we fix the VOOT cruiser, GIR, I’d like to run a few tests on your artificial intelligence chip…. It seems to be……………...bad….” 

The Computer felt a twinge of satisfaction at Zim admitting that. When Zim had gone out of his way to praise GIR over him and often boasted of his SIR unit’s “advanced” intelligence. After spending a four day weekend with GIR up in space had to have been a nightmare for Zim. He wasn’t even sure how he survived the trip to Earth in the first place considering it was a six month trip from Conventia without hyperdrive. 

Zim looked like he was about to lecture GIR on something when he made a horrified scream as the roof of the base closed.

“OH NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” Zim shrieked horrified and jumped from the VOOT prematurely as he faceplanted onto the hard tile floor.

….What……

“Hurry, GIR! The mission is compromised! I think we’ve been seen out of our disguises! By a HUMAN!!”

The Computer didn’t see anyone looking out at the base. The neighbors in the apartment complexes were far away from the windows and there was no one out at this time of night. Even if someone did manage to see the roof of the base close, it was far too dark to make out any specific details. At least with normal human eyes. 

“But Dib’s seen us before.” GIR plainly stated as he jumped down from the VOOT as it was lowered to the repair bay. “And he knows where we live.” 

The Computer was surprised that GIR even knew Dib’s name when he only infiltrated the base twice. Zim chuckled lightly as if he was remembering something him and GIR shared that the Computer wasn’t present for. 

“Heh...Heh… Dib…No, this is different. This is serious.”

GIR screamed in astonishment and horror, before plopping down in front of the TV and turning the Scary Monkey Show after being away from his favorite Earth entertainment for a weekend. 

“GIR!” Zim barked.

“Ooohh yeah….. AHHH!!!” 

  
GIR followed Zim up to the attic as the Computer began repairing the VOOT. What sort of Vortian did this? It could be possible that GIR just crashed the ship a million times over. He figures it would be better for him to not know. Zim pressed a panel and the Computer opened a window so Zim could see out the backyard. Thankfully, Zim didn’t mention the lack of a telescope in his backyard, so the Computer assumed he forgot about it entirely. A standard issue binocular helmet came out of Zim’s PAK, and Zim gasped in horror.

“Yes! A spy! In the top window of that House!” Zim gasped at the House nearly a block away. The Computer was for certain that absolutely no human being would see anything from that distance in the dark. “Something must be done before he gets to the Earth authorities!”

The Computer adjusted his cameras so he focused in on what Zim was freaking out about. Wait… was that a…

“Awwwwwwwwwww…..” GIR fawned looking out the window. “He’s cute! And Stinky lookin’.”

“CUTE?! This is a serious threat to our mission!” Zim evaded the baby’s view from the window.

“It’s just a bay-bee.” GIR said plainly, then he turned on the lights and waved enthusiastically towards it. “HI BAH-BEE!!!” 

Zim tackled GIR and wrestled GIR to the ground, out of the baby’s view. Despite GIR’s artificial intelligence being bad, the defective robot was correct. Human babies hardly posed much of a threat due to their developmental cycle. He didn’t blame Zim for reacting how he did. Defective or not, most Irken smeets are given far advanced toys and weaponry the instant their PAKs are activated. Even with no formal training Irken smeets can pose a serious threat for any opposing alien race, and some are just naturally good at elite training before being formally educated. Smeets often serve as good spies because they can go into enemy territory without being noticed. Spy reconnaissance was just a basic part of Smeet training that every standard Irken knew. It was the only real experience that Smeets had that wasn’t a simulated environment. 

So it was no wonder that Zim was overreacting towards a simple baby. Most alien young on other planets tended to be far more advanced than any Human Baby. Vortian young are constructing their own cribs mere hours after they’re born. Zim was unaware of how Human development worked. Human babies at a few weeks old only remember things for only two days. Proper memory and development doesn’t really begin until five months of age. So even if the baby did see anything, it most likely wouldn’t have any memory of such a thing. It hardly knew how to report to the Earth authorities let alone break into the base.

Which begs the question, why did GIR think the baby wasn’t a credible threat? Sure, he knew GIR watched a lot of television and cartoons….but babies were hardly a main focus in cartoons unless it was aimed specifically at human toddlers. The shows that GIR watched were usually about Piggies or the Scary Monkey Show. Sometimes he would watch old classic war movies with Zim, or Probing the Membrane of science, but there was hardly any information on human babies that Professor Membrane covered. Well, on any episodes they had seen so far anyways. 

Perhaps it was just GIR being GIR, and not taking intruders or the fake-mission seriously, but it was a bit odd that GIR knew what a baby is. When would have time to even see one on the tele- 

_ “Hehehhehehee”  _

The Computer halted in his thought process when he heard giggling coming from the VOOT cruiser down in the repair bay. He ceased the functions of his mechanical repair arm drones. Observing the VOOT from all angles. He heard something. An intruder? 

He paused for a moment, before continuing his repairs and the giggling continued. Okay, he was certain there was something here. He didn’t mishear things and he didn’t misremember things. His memory is infallible. It’s designed to be. 

The Computer ran a full diagnostic scan on the VOOT cruiser. Aside from the engines being busted and multiple dents…. It appeared as if the VOOT was actually being tampered with as he scanned it. So much so that it didn’t even recognize Zim as it’s primary driver. He doubted GIR had the capabilities to do that. 

There were also….. Three organic entities in the storage compartment. The Computer could see that whoever they were, they had burst a wire panel open, and were reprogramming the VOOT and snickering to themselves. 

What in the…?

The Computer flew one of his arm-drones down near the storage compartment, pressed a few hidden buttons on the pod, and the storage compartment flew open. With a startled scream, and a loud “oof!” three grey little healthy Vortian kids had fallen out. 

_...What… What the Schlork, what the Schlork, what the schlork?!  _

The kids crawled off of each other and one raised their hands in triumph. 

“We di’ it!” One of them shouted and they all cheered. 

They then began to look around with wide eyes bubbling in curiosity in the amount of Irken technology they were surrounded by. Before the Computer even had a chance to process what had happened, where they came from or why they were here, they all took off in different directions. 

“Wazzat?” One of them immediately began tottering towards the power amplifier which was used to recharge the cruiser in emergency situations. 

Another one jumped into the seat of the VOOT cruiser, immediately pressing buttons and reprogramming it.

The third one jumped on one of the mechanical repair arms and began swinging from it. 

“Wait.. NO! Stop! Don’t touch those!” The Computer sputtered, finally processing what was happening, and a long cable arm swooped down from the ceiling, wrapping all three of the Vortian babies in a tight coil before they could do any serious damage. The little Vortians all screamed in delight and giggled when they got wrapped up like a snake. 

“Master! Security bre-”

“COMPUTER!” Zim barked at the same time. Having long finished his argument with GIR and having made way to the living room, standing in front of the TV.

“I must know everything there is to know about….. These…. Babies… if I am to do reconnaissance on this spy…” Zim spat out the words. 

“Uuuuuuhhh…” The Computer’s processor stalled a bit. Trying to think of how to phrase what was happening in the repair bay and answer Zim’s question at the same time. “Such as….?”

Zim paced in the living room. “Earth Babies….what training do they possess, what is their skill level, and Where do they come from?”

“Earth Human babies don’t possess any formal training like Irken babies…..” The Computer began as if on autopilot. If a question was ever posed to him, no matter how stupid it was, he felt was just part of his duty to answer them. It was his primary directive after all. “Human babies are actually very low in intelligence to the point they can not walk, talk or communicate any formal language at this time. They’re extremely stupid and at this point in a human’s growth cycle they mainly gather visual information about spacial awareness of the world around them and their primary caretakers. They mainly rely on their parental units for food, shelter and affection.” 

The Computer explained as quickly as he could, so he could get to the issue of the security being compromised by Vortian babies. He provided Zim with images of human babies with their caretakers, displaying how weak and helpless they were. 

“They basically just eat, make messes and cry to get what they want.” 

_ A lot like GIR _ …. the Computer thought. 

“Other than being Germ factories, they aren’t much of a threat.” 

“Ha… such weak and pathetic spies…. But I shalln’t let my guard down. Such masters of manipulation they are to let the Taller, yet dumber kind of their species take care of their every whim…gathering all this information… they’re plotting something...”

“...That… that wasn’t at all what I said…” 

“Computer! Inform me! Where do Earth babies come from!” 

The Computer scoffed as he brought up a video of human intercourse. Thankfully, it seems Humans have a wide variety of examples in their database to choose from as an example. 

“Human reproduction is typically caused by-”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!”

Zim let out a high pitched, guttural shriek that the Computer has never heard from him before.

Every window in the base blew out.

GIR’s head exploded. 

Every car alarm in the neighborhood went off.

The little Vortian babies covered their ears and cried. 

The Computer’s console short-circuited.

Once the Computer flickered back to life with his back-up generator power, Zim was still screaming, long after the video on human intercourse was gone. The Vortian babies were crying loudly, and GIR appeared to be alright and was just screaming along with Zim for the sake of screaming. The irritation the Computer felt at the massive amount of screaming was just… unbearable…the babies… GIR… Zim… everyone was screaming, everyone was crying… The car alarms and dogs barking outside were so loud... he couldn’t think… he… 

Every single instance of the base screamed out for everyone to just….

**_“SHUT UP!!!!”_ **

Simultaneously in one motion, The Computer picked up the Vortian babies and rocked them, soothing them to the best of his ability, while looking up any information he could find from the Irken database on Vortian infants, he also stuck a Lollipop in GIR’s mouth that he had saved in the fridge, silencing him immediately, and Zim stopped screaming just due to how the Computer raised his voice. 

Zim blinked at the Computer screen. His hands close to his chest. Trembling a moment. For once Zim seemed at loss for words for a few short moments. Once the rooms of the base settled, the Computer realized… raising his voice was the entirely wrong move and he knew it was. The Earth parenting books say as much about yelling at children, and yelling at Zim was the one thing as an Irken Computer he did NOT want to do. 

The Computer hesitantly began speaking. Frantically searching in the human databank on what to do if you actually yell at a child. Since it was completely unheard of that Irken Computers scream or talk back at their Masters….or at least… no records existed. 

“A-apologies… Master… but there is a security breach in the Repair bay and-” 

Zim’s expression shifted from stunned silence, to something dark and angry in a matter of seconds, the Computer even wondered if he imagined the expression. 

“THAT. IS. IT!” Zim asserted. “You tell me these horrible, disgusting, filthy LIES about babies, and now you tell me, ME the MIGHTY ZIM to SHUT UP!??!” Zim marched forward towards the television, and opened a panel next to the screen issuing a few button commands. 

“...I... I apologize. It wasn’t…”

“I SHOULD UNPLUG YOUR BRAIN FOR SUCH DISOBEDIENCE!”

The Computer’s circuits froze and he audibly gasped. 

“Master! I would advise-” The Computer cut off as he could see Zim’s dark glare. “Highly suggest…….” Zim’s eyes narrowed. The Computer struggled to think of a response based on previous conversation data that wouldn’t make Zim angry. “....... please don’t do that.” 

“Why not?! I came to this planet alone and built my base and space station entirely without you! You are a Computer! Yet you constantly belittle me and my intelligence from the moment you were activated! You hardly do any work around here, and your presence is hardly necessary for an Invader as incredible as myself!” 

The Computer wanted so desperately to argue that it wasn’t true! He was the one who managed the base and kept the systems running! He was the one who constructed the space station based on Zim’s Commands! He’s the one who repaired the windows before Zim even noticed he broke them. He’s the one that has Vortian babies asleep in his cable arms right now! He’s the one who cleans after GIR’s messes and keeps him entertained while at skool. He’s the one who answers to his teacher when something goes wrong! He’s the one who monitors his vitals and treats him when his experiments go wrong! He’s the one who was stealing power to keep himself ALIVE. Due to a problem for his system that ZIM had caused! 

_ You’re Defective, you’re stupid! I would terminate you where you stood if it wasn’t for your stupid fail-safe programs that you implimented in me!  _

The Computer wanted to point all this out to Zim, but the words died in his speakers. 

“I don’t really need you, I can Invade this planet without your assistance.” 

“Master. I apologize.” The Computer spoke aloud before he could think of what he was going to say. A rarity for him, but he had to act quickly. “I wasn’t speaking to you. I was yelling at the Vortian Prisoners.” A very feeble lie. 

“Eh? The Vortian-.... OH YES!  _ THOSE _ babies!” 

  
So he did know of them.

“Well why didn’t you just say so?” Zim scoffed. 

The Computer hesitated a bit before speaking. 

“...What do you want me to do with-”

“SHUT UP!” Zim barked at the ceiling. 

The Computer ceased speaking. 

Zim then gave a small childish grin. “Heh. Ya see? Like how you did before… when you told me to shut up… now I’m telling you to shut up. Doesn’t feel too good DOES it? DOES IT?!” 

“....Uhhh… do you want me to answer or…”

“FEH!” Zim scoffed.

GIR clapped from the couch. “Oooooooooohhh! I’s see… House says to shut up and yew got mad so then yew told HIM to shut up and now he feels bad!”

“Yes! Exactly!” Zim turned and pointed at GIR triumphantly. GIR giggled and clapped. Zim then frowned a bit. “Unfortunate that the one person who says one smart thing tonight had to have been you…” Zim then turned back to the console finishing the series of prompts.

The Computer was about to let out a sigh, but he found the sound didn’t come out of his speakers. Odd…. He tried to activate them, but the Living room speakers were shut down. As were the Repair Bay speakers…. As well as the entire base…….. 

….What?!

Zim let out a triumphant dominating laugh. 

“THERE! I have successfully muted your systems. You dare tell ME to shut up and spit lies, you don’t deserve to speak for the rest of the night!”

That was… THAT WAS COMPLETELY UNFAIR!!!

HE DIDN’T EVEN DO ANYTH…. Well… he did raise his voice at Zim… which he knows he shouldn’t have done… but he was frustrated and overwhelmed. And he has these stupid, destructive Vortian babies to take care of now. How can he wrangle them when he can’t even communicate with them!? 

Zim grinned in satisfaction as he heard the low yet loud rumble of coils and wires from the ceiling. Conveying the Computer’s frustration at the situation.

“I need to learn of this spy! He could have reported to the Earth authorities already... I don’t have time to waste on your stupid disobediance and LIES!… GIR!” Zim barked at his robot minion. 

GIR’s eyes flashed red and he saluted, jumping to attention at Zim’s feet.

“Head to the repair bay and secure the Vortian hostages.”

GIR’s eyes then flashed to blue. “BABIES!!!!” GIR screeched and extended his arm to punch a hole in the wall. The Computer’s processor stuttered at that, causing the elevator in the center of the living room to plummet downwards at full velocity. GIR screamed in delight as he was cast down all the way to the repair bay. Zim groaned and prepared a disguise, leaving the base without another word to the Computer.

GIR crashed down on top of the VOOT cruiser, bouncing off it’s top and landing on the platform. The Vortian children stirred in the Computer’s arms and woke up. They blinked their big eyes at GIR.

GIR waved at them. “HI BAB-BEYS!!!!” 

They waved back. “HI GIR!!!” 

The Computer so desperately wanted to ask GIR what Zim was doing with a bunch of Vortian babies. Were these his supposed “engineers”? They couldn’t be right?! As much as the Computer tried, words couldn’t come out, and he couldn’t overwrite the commands from Zim, since he’s technically registered as his master.

Before he knew what was happening, the arm holding them went completely slack and the Vortian babies jumped down and toddled over to GIR. The Computer tried to move that arm to wrap them in his clutches but it just sparked and fizzled. Blarug Vortians! They keep breaking everything.

The Vortians all jumped onto GIR and GIR giggled as they began opening his head, extending his arms, and unscrewing his eyes. They wanted to see how he worked and were essentially dismantling him. The Irken records  _ did  _ say that Vortians were naturally good at technology from the moment they were born… but absolutely NOTHING in the data banks could prepare him for the pure destructiveness they caused. It was honestly worse than GIR making a mess. When GIR made a mess, he at least knew what to expect… With these Vortians, they were experts at dismantling everything just to see how it worked, it was all just a game to them. 

“HORRAY! IT HURTS!” GIR screamed joyously. The Computer took another mechanical arm and coiled the babies back up, high away from GIR.

“Awwww! I w-w-w-w-anta play with the ba-ba-b-auh-babies!” GIR whined in different pitches, multiple loose wires were hanging from his open head compartment and sparking violently. His arm got yanked off and so did his eye.. The Computer used another arm to assemble GIR as quickly as he could back to fully operational status. Even if he had a disdain for GIR, he doesn’t even want to think what would happen if Zim found his little favorite robot in pieces under his watch.

Zim was already mad at him and a few minor mistakes could be the difference between permanent deactivation. 

The Vortian kids began giggling as the Computer snatched the parts they stole from GIR, and he assembled GIR so all his pieces were back in the right place. GIR stood up straight for a few seconds before faceplanting to the ground, his blue eyes turning dark. 

The Vortian kids clapped and began gnawing and meddling with the Computer’s wiring… The Computer kept switching them from arm to arm before they could do any multiple damage. Them shouting “wheeeee” as he essentially played hot potato with a bunch of destructive tinkers. 

The Computer took another arm and hooked GIR up to the power amplifier. While SIR units did not have backup generators like Irken Computer’s did, they can recharge organically through sleep-mode and an electrical jolt. Computer hooked up GIR to the power amplifier and fed him enough power to get a jolt. GIR’s dark eyes flickered to blue, green, then Red. 

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” GIR exclaimed joyously as he got fully recharged. The Computer unplugged GIR from the charger once he was sure GIR had enough power to support his operating system. GIR staggered to his feet, and his eyes flickered for a moment. He appeared dazed Then he turned towards the ceiling and immediately giggled at the sight of the Vortian babies screaming in delight as they were being passed from arm to arm. 

“WOOOOO! HOUSE! I didn’t know you could juggle! Do me next! DO ME!!!” 

_ YOU STUPID ROBOT JUST SHUT UP AND DO SOMETHING!!!  _

The Computer wanted to scream but he remained muted. The only sound that indicated the Computer’s frustration was a loud rumble overhead. 

GIR stuck out his tongue. Looking at the ceiling. The Vortian babies grinned at each other and then bit down hard on the arm that they were being held with, tearing through the metal and sparks went flying. The entire base creaked and groaned. The babies were then free and scampered all off in different directions. The Computer deployed repair drones to take care of the remaining functional VOOT repair arm drones. GIR blankly watching this all unfold. 

The Computer honestly felt like sobbing from stress alone. Zim was going to deactivate his brain, all because his voice is muted and he can’t wrangle these Vortain babies that Zim brought back to the base for whatever reason. All the electricity he spent gathering over the weekend was already used up just from the amount of repairs and his minor short circuit when Zim saw that stupid human reproduction video. He can’t just steal their power right now, causing another power outage would just get the neighbors suspicious. 

Did anything he did matter?! Even his own programming is bunked! Zim isn’t even an Invader no matter what his code said. He was cursed to help him anyways… for a mission that isn’t real, and was just fated to constantly be yelled at, berated and broken. The only thing that Zim was right about, he really could do this mission without him. Why even bother to control these Vortian babies… Why bother to save GIR!? This was Zim’s fault! He knows his own actions as a Computer are absolutely contradictory to the benefits of the Irken Empire. He should just let the little terrors destroy his systems and GIR. If they didn’t deactivate him, Zim certainly will. 

Why did he even bother?! 

GIR’s eyes flashed red without prompting, and the defective bot took off with his rocket feet. ….ugh.. Great… what was that menace doing now…? Probably going to join the Vortians in dismantling the base. The Computer watched as GIR flew off and started picking up the babies one by one. One of them was playing with the security system, another was tampering with the VOOT, and another was making its way to the elevator. Once the babies were all in his arms, GIR flew off in the hatch above the VOOT. The babies screamed and giggled in delight. 

They were out of sight, but the Computer could feel them moving around in his ventilation system. GIR exited the vents, landing in Zim’s Specimen Containment Room. It’s where Zim kept all his animal experiments for storage until he decided he needed them. GIR’s eyes flashed back to blue as he screamed in delight, and opened up the lid of the Robotic Gopher experiment, and threw the Vortian babies in, before sealing the lid. 

The babies landed down with a soft “oof” and turned to look at the Cybernetic Gopher. The Gopher locked targets on the babies, giving off a series of angry squeaks. Approaching them as it’s cybernetic eye glowed red. The Computer panicked and was about to release the lid off the Gopher containment unit, when The three Vortian babies squealed in delight. Like when GIR did when he discovered his new favorite food of the week. 

“FLUFFY!” One of them screamed.

“CUTE!” Another chimed

“A ROBOT!” The other exclaimed delightedly.

The three surrounded the poor Gopher, and immediately began petting it, prodding it and poking it. Taking out it’s cybernetic implants to see how it worked and how they could reprogram it themselves. The room was filled with squeaks of agony from the poor Gopher as the Vortain young began smothering it with affection and tampering with its biomechanical enhancements. 

GIR waved at the Gopher experiment from behind the glass as it clawed up against it’s containment unit begging for freedom.

“Play nice with the babies okie?!” GIR grinned before flying back to the repair bay… well, attempted to. He crashed to the floor when he attempted to do so. 

“Oooooohhh??? Babies broke mah legs!” GIR said in the happiest tone of voice. He then rolled onto his back like a dog asking for belly-rubs and looked at the ceiling. 

“Looks like House has to fix me~” GIR beamed, looking very proud of himself.

Did….

Did he JUST let the Vortians break him again so he could get a jolt from the power amplifier?! GIR stared at the ceiling expectantly. Waiting for a response. The Computer focused his attention on the Vortian young, who were completely enraptured with the Cybernetic Gopher. The babies were contained, and they were preoccupied, and they wouldn’t break anything else as long as they stayed with the Gopher. 

Ugh… Well, he owed GIR that he supposed. He will definitely keep close surveillance on them and in the meantime, track down Vortian records on how to care for Vortian young. Which he honestly should have done in the first place. He didn’t even know why he bothered with the Irken records.

GIR started to giggle when a cable arm extended from the ceiling and wrapped around him. He placed GIR in the elevator and took him back to the repair bay. Another arm wrapped around GIR and took him towards the power amplifier. His maintenance drones were working overtime, repairing his systems in addition to the VOOT cruiser. He hooked GIR up to the power amplifier, as he scanned and examined GIR thoroughly to see if there was any prominent damage. Aside from being beat up a little, he was no worse for wear.

He couldn’t say much for his own systems. Way too many VOOT repair drones were offline or malfunctioning, and he hasn’t found a way to enable the cruiser so Zim was recognized as it’s primary user again. He noticed his security system was tampered with when he didn’t notice Zim coming home until he opened the door and rolled into the center of the Living room. Coughing and writing with parts of his disguise falling off. 

“COMPUTER! Take me to- Guhhhh” Zim covered his mouth as if he was suppressing the urge to vomit. “Take me to...GUHnnnnn… Take me… OOOUUUFFF… ...R-repair bay!” Zim choked out.

Thankfully, the Elevator was the first thing that got repaired in all that mess and he began sending Zim down. 

He unhooked GIR from the power amplifier. GIR let a disappointed “HEY!” at that. The Computer continued his repairs on the cruiser. It was easy to see why the VOOT was in such bad shape. If Zim had to take those three and GIR back, he could only imagine what sort of chaos befell them. Knowing that, Zim’s reaction to a human baby wasn’t as ridiculous as it initially seemed. 

“The human... guuh…. Infant is much stronger than I… Guhh… Expected…” Zim breathed out, leaning against the docked VOOT. “I’ll have to use a higher percent of my brain skills to outwit him.” 

GIR began hooking himself up to the power amplifier on his own as Zim continued speaking.

“Either that or by some miracle of chance, you were right about him being harmless.” 

GIR flew through the air as he turned up the settings on the power amplifier way too high then the recommended amount for a robot of his size. It was broadcasting his signal and actually draining him of his power rather than supplying him with it. The Computer hesitated as the signal GIR transmitted grew in scope… Did.. he… Did he even want to touch that? 

“Perhaps I overestimated him… and underestimated m-EAAAAUUUUUUFHHHHH DUUHHHHH” 

Well, he got his answer to that pretty quickly. Zim groaned and fell forward almost instantaneously when GIR’s blue wave of electricity reached his organic brain. Zim twitched and writhed on the floor before stilling entirely. His life readings came to an abrupt end.

...Wait…

That actually KILLED him?

…….That’s kinda funny. 

Serves him right, actually. 

Sure enough, Zim’s PAK began reactivation protocol and Zim was jolted back to life in a matter of seconds. Zim lifted his head, his magenta eyes focusing into a glare towards the little bot flying around the repair bay. 

“GIR! Get away from the power amplifier!” Zim commanded. 

“but I-...” GIR began meekly as he lowered himself to the ground.

Zim marched towards him.

“I should worry less about what a baby can do, and worry more about the damage that you can do.” Zim yanked the wires out of GIR’s head. “Stay away from the Power amplifier! It’s sending out deadly waves of stupidness!” 

The Computer honestly wondered if that was what it was, but before he had time to run a scan on both of them the doorbell sounded. 

“THE DOORBELL!” Zim shrieked, hopping to one of the maintenance drones. The Computer carried him to the elevator. “But the security system should have warned me as soon as anyone set foot in the perimeter!” 

The Computer was almost grateful he couldn’t speak. He would have hated to tell Zim that the reason that the security system wasn’t triggered was because Vortian babies got their little tinkering hands in it. The instant Zim was gone, GIR hooked himself up to the power amplifier on another high setting. Making delighted noises as his energy was being drained from him. The Computer was about to pull him away… but he figured why bother. Just let the Robot have it’s fun and overflow and drain his battery. He wasn’t going to touch any of those deadly waves of stupidness. He just repaired his arms and he wasn’t eager to get them broken again. 

He did run a quick scan though, to confirm that GIR actually broadcasts a really strong signal when amplified that reduces technology or biomechanical beings to a more premature, simple state. Zim wasn’t wrong about them being deadly waves of stupid. The Computer was too drained to even bother to see if other SIR units would send out a similar signal if hooked up to a power amplifier. 

“Computer!” Zim called for him after he was finished looking outside for potential intruders. The Computer swore that he saw something come inside but he wasn’t sure. “Run a diagnostic on the doorbe-”

Zim was cut off when a batch of human babies just happened to appear in the living room. What? How did they get there? Did the Vortian babies damage his security system THAT badly? So badly that all these little human toddlers got in… wearing… military uniforms… with invisibility cloaking technology belts.. and were all standing in perfect formation and….

These…. These weren’t human babies… were they….

“What are all you babies doing here? Get out! Shoo!” Zim dismissed them. 

_ Master stay on your guard.  _

The Computer attempted to stay before realizing his speakers were still muted. 

“At least I realize why the alarm didn’t go off, you’re too small to-”

“SEIZE THE ENEMY!” The Front center baby commanded in a deep voice that shocked the Computer.

Before he could even process what was happening a plague of babies tackled Zim to the ground. The Computer attempted to extend his arms to capture the intruders. 

ERROR

SECURITY SYSTEMS OFFLINE

What?! 

He tried to turn them back on. 

ERROR

COMMAND FROM IRKEN INVADER MASTER REQUIRED FOR OVERRIDE.

Oh those little Vortian nightmares! 

Zim was quickly overwhelmed and outnumbered by the little intruders as they tied him to a chair. Peeling off the last remains of his disguise in the struggle. 

“Noogums! I should have known…” Zim glared as if it was the first time seeing the baby, even though he clearly saw him five seconds ago when he gave the order to attack him. 

“Don’t call me by that name!” The head baby fumed. “It is demeaning to the proud and fierce race of the Nhar-Gh’ok to be dubbed,  _ Noogums _ .” 

The Nhar-Gh’ok? The Computer began looking up information on them as fast as he could in addition to the numerous repairs he had to do. 

“What should I call you then?” Zim questioned.

“Schnooky! Gorkspace Sergeant Schnooky!” 

Zim’s eyes widened. “I KNEW IT! EARTH BABIES COME FROM SPACE!” 

The Computer would sigh if he wasn’t muted. Does Zim not even listen to himself when he talks? 

“No!” Schnooky protested. “Our people look exactly like human babies. But we didn’t know that when we landed here seven years ago…” 

Schnooky began telling the tale of his people. How they came to Earth for an information gathering mission and how they ended up stranded by their mothership. All the while, the Computer found very little information on the Nhar-Gh’ok themselves. They must have been located in Earth’s solar system, or they were space bounty hunters. Judging from their space uniforms and Schnooky’s way of speaking he can infer that they were a military based society. If that’s the case, why hadn’t the Irken Empire heard of them? If there was even a chance of a military uprising from a foreign nation they were usually snuffed out. 

Earth was a planet so far away and removed from the Irken Armada and intergalactic law, the Computer had no idea why any species would think to do information gathering on this planet unless they were exiled here like Zim has been. It was surprising that the exile came after the human babies were abducted aboard the mothership. 

There was only one mention of the Nhar-Gh’ok race in Irken records. The Nhar-Gh’ok’s planet was invaded by a group of giants that outgrow and outran their people. The Nhar-Gh’ok ran into a civil war with Invaders of their own kind that looked like their people, but grew large and destructive. The Irken Armada saw the planet as one that you couldn’t walk on without being shot at instantly, thus unfit to conquer. There are absolutely no tourism benefits for being shot at the moment your boot touches the ground. Not to mention any Invader saw it unfit to even go there. Even Tenn at Meekrob had an easier time, and that was an entire race of psychics. 

The Nhar-Gh’ok were battling themselves to extinction and doing their own job for the Irken armada. The Computer came to the unfortunate conclusion the reason Nhar-Gh’ok turned so hostile towards foreigners must have been the babies that got abducted aboard the mothership due to Schooky’s squadron’s incompetence. The Computer thought that the logistics of a small group of Seven year olds overthrowing an entire race was highly improbable, but seeing how ten year olds like Dib and Keef behaved towards Zim, Earth Children are a force to be reckoned with under the right circumstances. 

“...It’s been seven long years since that terrible night…” Schnooky concluded his tale as he gazed at the Piggy toy on the top shelf near the Television. 

“What do you want with me?” Zim asked, clearly not understanding where they were going with this. 

“Your ship!” Schnooky demanded. “We’re going home!” 

The unfortunate truth is that there is nothing for them there.

“You can’t take my ship, it’s mine!” Zim argued childishly. 

“We’ll tell the humans all about you if you resist us!” Schnooky threatened.

Well….

That was just stupid. 

The Nhar-Gh’ok looked exactly like human babies. If they could stay on this planet assuming the identities of babies for seven years without the humans growing any wise to their ruse, then there was no hope for them reporting to the humans. It was more likely the “parents” would just be happy their little babies were talking. It’s not like that they could report to the Earth authorities either. Maybe over a phone call, but it was hard to say how seriously the Earth government took threats of Alien Invasion over the phone. 

Knowing that Zim was possessive over everything he owned, HIS planet, HIS Computer, HIS GIR and HIS Voot it was highly likely based on previous conversation data that Zim would not share. Also highly probable that Schnooky’s squadron wouldn’t return his ship once they had it. The easiest solution was either to call Schnooky’s bluff about informing the humans, eliminate the Nhar-Gh’ok intruders or to provide an escape pod or a smaller ship that they could-

“COMPUTER! Open the Entrance to storage room two!” 

Or…………

That.

There’s always that. 

The Computer lifted the chair up towards the entrance of the storage area. Zim fell backwards, shattering the chair on impact. 

“GET HIM! EAT HIS FEET OFF!” Schnooky commanded.

The Nhar-Gh’ok hissed and sputtered, revealing their razor sharp teeth, claws, and pupiless eyes. 

_ That… wasn’t covered in the databank.  _

The Computer began to close the entrance to the storage room, to put some needed distance between the Nhar-Gh’ok and Zim. They hissed and jammed the entrance with GIR’s toy Piggy and lifted the couch with strength equivalent to at least ten irken soldiers. 

_ That also wasn’t in the databank.  _

Zim screamed as the toy piggy hit him on the head. He scampered towards the elevator and sealed the doors. The Nhar-Gh’ok in hot pursuit. 

“Computer, take me down to the VOOT cruiser repair bay!” Zim breathed out.

The Elevator lurched as the Computer began the descent. The plague of babies jumped onto the elevator shaft and began punching sizable dents into the Elevator at a desperate attempt to get to Zim. Wreaking havoc on his systems for the Elevator. It wouldn’t take long before he lost control of the descent all together. 

Zim got to his feet. “The ship is mine, Noogums, or Shmoogy, or whatever your name is!” 

  
“It’s SCHNOOKY!” Schnooky screamed back.

“It’s Invader Property!” Zim argued back. “You won’t get your filthy little nub hands on it!” 

_ Master! Just have the Vortian prisoners build an escape pod from scratch and with any luck it’ll fall apart exiting the planet’s atmosphere and kill them!!!  _

The Computer attempted to scream out as Zim blasted a hole through the elevator shaft with his PAK wielding tool. Zim crawled out into the ventilation system as the Elevator plummeted to the depths below. The Nhar-Gh’oks screamed out as they fell, hissing and spitting at Zim. Zim made his way to the VOOT repair Bay by using the vents, while the Nhar-Gh’ok rode the Elevator down to it’s repair bay destination. They spat out a corrosive acid from their mouths, creating their own path from the elevator shaft. The lights for the Elevator flickered and the power went out for that node. By the time Zim reached the VOOT repair bay, the Nhar-Gh’ok were already spitting their way towards the ship. The Computer put the repair bay in total lockdown. Once Zim was in, every single entrance was locked down with a thick steel door. At least that part of his security system wasn’t damaged. The Nhar-Gh’ok hissed and pounded their little fists against the thick metal. 

Zim turned to GIR, who was dancing and beatboxing on the power amplifier, keeping himself entertained.

“GIR!” Zim barked.

  
“Yes?” GIR turned his head towards Zim. 

Zim walked towards GIR using his PAK legs and gently lowered GIR away from the power amplifier.

“The Babies are inside the base, GIR!”

“I Like Babies!” GIR said a little too eagerly, considering a different set of babies just ripped him open. 

“I can only hope the repairs are finished!”

_ Sir! The Vortians reprogrammed the VOOT don’t touch it!  _

“You hold off the babies while I-”

“I’M GONNA PLAY WITH THE BABIES!!!!” GIR shrieked. 

Zim scowled and attempted to activate the cruiser, but the VOOT immediately wrapped him up in coils and restrained him. No longer recognizing Zim as the primary user. 

The metal doors began showing dents from the other side, and Zim gasped in horror.

“They’re getting in, GIR! Do something!”

“OKIE!” GIR screamed as he activated the power amplifier yet again. Screaming in delight as it lifted him into the air. 

Zim’s eyes narrowed and he struggled out of the restraints of the cruiser. He made his way to the power amplifier, narrowly avoiding GIR’s deadly waves of stupidness and shut it off just before the babies got in. The metal door rendered nothing more than scrap metal by their corrosive vomit.

Schnooky led the formation, glaring at Zim with determination in his step.

“BABIES!” GIR screamed delighted at the sight of the Nhar-Gh’ok. 

“We will take your ship!” Schnooky announced. “And for the trouble you caused, we’re going to destroy your base, leaving you stranded here. Just like we were, and we’ll tell the humans all about you!” 

The Computer wanted to point out that appearing how they did, there wasn’t much they could do in terms of informing the humans…..but… destroying the base… that was something that they could do, in fact, they were already doing that pretty well. Wait, if the base is destroyed, what exactly would happen to-

“Now, my minions, form GIGANTO BABY!!!!!”

What?!?!

Zim and the Computer could only watch in horror as the Nhar-Gh’ok all piled ontop of eachother to form a hideous abomination of flesh. The Conglomeration of limbs, fangs, drool and other liquids gave a hideous roar as a holographic projection of a computer screen flickered near the top. 

**_THAT DEFINITELY WASN’T IN THE DATABANK_ **

The Giganto Baby pounded down and ripped a wire from the flooring, causing a series of massive explosions that made the entire base tremble. The Repair drones for the VOOT going completely offline. The Computer was paralyzed as the babies yanked out another wire. The consciousness for that room flickering in and out of existence. He could barely process what was happening. Only the loud thumps and crashes of the Giganto baby and the skittering of Zim’s PAK legs was the only feedback he could digest. 

_ What was happening?  _

Why couldn’t he see?

Why was everything muddled?! 

He had a feeling one of his repair drones got completely destroyed. He could feel the Giganto baby yanking out more of his circuits and tangling up in his wires. Ripping out more of his coils for that node. The Computer console gave a weak flicker of energy. 

And just like that…. He had no access to that room anymore. 

...It was gone. 

Was… was everything okay? 

What..

Was that..

What happened… is Zim?.... 

Why does he hear babies crying?

The Computer checked on the Vortian babies. Whom were all sound asleep, cuddled up next to the robot gopher who looked like he experienced a war, and from what the Computer was observing, he basically had.

The Computer tried to activate his cameras for the repair bay, but everything was down. His drones, the elevator, the repair bay. Everything. 

“COMPUTER! Help me round up the babies!” Zim’s voice carried from the next room over. 

Unfortunately, the Computer couldn’t do anything. He was also muted. So until Zim revoked that order verbally or manually, he’d remain muted.

“Computer? ………..” Zim questioned. “HELLLOOOOOOO!!!!” He shouted sassily, and the Computer heard more babies crying.

“UGH! Useless as always! GIR! Help me round up the babies!” 

“BABIES!” He heard GIR scream. 

The Computer didn’t know what was happening, but judging from the lack of loud pounding and yanking out his circuits, there was no more Giganto baby. He wasn’t sure what pacified Schnooky but apparently it was enough for them to gain the upper hand in the fight. The Computer didn’t know where to start to begin the repairs. He really hopes that Zim won’t need to take out the VOOT for the foreseeable future. The best he could do at that moment was repair the busted elevator. He didn’t even think he had the processing power to even multitask on repairing the repair bay with how many circuits blew out there.

By the time Zim was ordering the Computer to take them out of the repair bay and to the docking station, the Elevator barely worked. The Computer was surprised to see the Nhar-Gh’ok all wrapped up and nuzzled in GIR’s arms. Sucking their thumbs and looking just like normal human babies. The Computer was wondering what exactly happened, but he was far too drained on power to connect the pieces. 

Zim then ordered the Computer to adjust the trajectory of the launch cannons to send all the babies back to their Earth families, now that they have been afflicted with “GIR’s stupidness.” Knowing that the babies looked the same for over seven years, it only took a brief facial recognition search to launch the babies unceremoniously back to their Earth families. The Computer hoped the deadly rays of stupidness were permanent. Otherwise the babies would definitely come back. 

“BYE BABY!” GIR waved to the last of the babies to be launched back. 

Zim tackled GIR to the ground and the Computer closed the window. 

“NO MORE BABIES, GIR!” Zim hissed. 

“Wut about the other babies, we launch them too?”

“EH?!” 

“The other babies that we stole from da goat man!” GIR said as Zim squinted a single eye at him. 

“Ya kno? We crashed ontop his house and he scream said ‘i’ll do anythin’ you want just don’t take my bab-bees.’ ……..then the babies follow us! Cus they liked me!” 

“Ah?! Oh.. Heh heh.. No that’s Different, GIR! They’re our prisoners!”

“Oooooooooooooohhhh.”

“We are to hold them hostage to secure a relationship with our Votian contact!.... Which reminds me, Computer! Check the Vortian records for a Prisoner 777.”

A Computer screen displayed from the ceiling. 

VORTIAN PRISONER 777

IRKEN CONTACT/PROPERTY OF INVADER ZIM.

Zim blinked at the screen.

“VICTORY!” Zim shouted in triumph. 

The Computer could miserably suffer in silence, as he immediately drained as much power from the neighbors as he could, causing yet another blackout for the second time that day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Computer gets high for medical reasons, okay. Leave him alone. 
> 
> So now in addition to being a babysitter for Zim and GIR, he now has three Vortians to look after. He is full-fledged Nanny/Dad now. 
> 
> This chapter took way too long. (RIP any hope of completing the Halloween episode by the time Halloween happens in RL. I just accepted it won't happen. LOL) 
> 
> And yes! Those are 777's babies from the Comics.
> 
> I might reference some events from the Comics but not all of them. 
> 
> Because this is a Show-Movie timeline continuity.
> 
> The Vortian Babies only showed up in one comic issue in the timeline where Zim remembered what Phase 2 was. (And Membrane didn't lose his arms in a shark attack) 
> 
> ETF is the timeline where he FORGOT what Phase 2 is and Florpus happened. (and Membrane lost his arms)
> 
> But they do exist in my AU and do serve a purpose. You'll see what happens with them.
> 
> Basically a few Comic events will be referenced but they will occur differently than how they do in the actual comics. 
> 
> The Computer wasn't there for it... But Basically, Zim crashed his ship on Poor 777's home, and he begged not to hurt his family, Zim didn't know what was going on.... and GIR already had babies in his arms... so he rolled with it. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy. Comments feed my soul.


	7. Glorified Babysitter wasn't listed in the Terms of Service

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who knew caring for three Vortian babies separated from their home could be this difficult? Oh wait... EVERYONE! Why did he have them again?! 
> 
> The Computer goes through another difficult week. It's entirely Zim's fault, and he just wishes Zim would drop dead so he could get a better Master already! ..........Or............

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There is canon-typical grossout in this chapter... Mostly with Germs and Meat... as well as... mild body horror
> 
> Also a mild description of sex from a purely "scientific" point of view, but it is a little grossly described, so just a word of caution.

There were absolutely no words in the Irken vocabulary that could describe the absolute chaos that the Computer suffered through the following week.

But he did believe there were words in the English vocabulary that described it quite well.

What was it?

Ah yes.

_ A complete and utter shit show _ .

For starters, it appeared as if Zim had completely forgotten to unmute him since the events of the dreaded "baby invasion." Which normally, the Computer wouldn't have a problem with. The less he could talk to Zim, the better at that point. Considering it was getting increasingly difficult to hide his increasing list of frustrations with his would-be Master as of late. Keeping him muted honestly prevents him from saying something that would result in permanent deactivation. It would be beneficial if he just stated muted but the fact of the matter was that it just made his job completely and utterly impossible.

Not to mention, miserable.

The little Vortians were hard enough to get under control on his own when he could freely speak. Getting them under control without any verbal communication was a complete nightmare. 

It was to the Computer's utter horror upon researching Vortian young that not only were they little destructive technicians, but a majority of a young Vortian's diet consisted of metal. This was to ensure their horns came in healthy and it was a large part of any Vortian's diet. So obviously, the Gopher experiment containment unit did not hold them for long.

The little terrors chewed their way through everything. Containers, prison cells, his own circuits. Nothing contained them. Anything they didn't gnaw through, they reprogrammed for their entertainment. The Gopher was a five-star dancer now, the cybernetic squirrels knew kung-fu, and the latest beaver experiment was a very skilled singer.

The Computer could only keep them entertained by shoving them from containment unit to containment unit until they eventually got bored and chewed their way out. He could only pacify their boredom for so long.

He couldn't even tell Zim about it or ask him what he wanted the baby prisoners for. He kept displaying text alerts that would interrupt Zim's favorite programs but Zim would promptly dismiss and ignore them with much annoyance. He hoped that supplying them with a Vortian contact would help reconstruct the rooms in the base, but he wouldn't trust the little crotch-gremlins to go anywhere NEAR his console.

_ WHY WAS EVERYTHING IN HIS BASE CIRCUITRY MADE OF METAL?!?! _

The worst thing is that GIR would encourage such behavior. The defective bot thought of the babies as his friends, even though every time GIR saw them, the Computer had to construct a glass barrier between them so that the Vortian babies wouldn't tear GIR apart.

GIR would even chant and cheer at them as he watched the Vortians chewing and eating the Base's circuits. The Computer eventually gave up trying to pick them up with his robot arms. Cause they just chewed through those too.

He even swore he saw that stupid robot staring blankly at the ceiling with a vacant expression and watched while they ate his robot arms and circuits. As if that stupid SIR unit was  _ fucking _ mocking him. 

_ Don't just watch you idiot! Do something! You miserable hunk of hardware! _

But GIR would simply watch as the Vortians either destroyed him by tinkering with his programming, or eating parts of him. Like it was his new favorite show on the TV. 

Vortian parenting data did nothing to help with the little terrors. It was all factual information about what they ate, how they play, and their sleeping habits. Which was all fine and helpful, but there was nothing there that described the living nightmare scenario he found himself in.

This was most likely because Vortian babies aren't taken away from their parental units and brought to a metal paradise of technology and food. To them, the entire base was an all-you-can-eat buffet and a theme park. No wonder it took forever to get them to actually sleep.

Trying to contain the little terrors did nothing for his power consumption. The neighborhood was experiencing frequent blackouts multiple times a day.

The baby Vortians were a full-time job in and of itself. He hardly had the spare resources to fix the repair bay. Much less the VOOT. He had only gotten so far as reprogramming it and smoothing out the dents. But there was just a lot of the VOOT that was completely gutted. 

That short circuit certainly did a number on him. He was having trouble keeping his focus since the Vortians hardly gave him any time to recover from the attack from the Nhar-Gh'ok either. 

After further looking into the human sexual reproduction video he showed Zim that caused him to short circuit in the first place, he could see how it caused him to scream how he did.

Human culture is completely obsessed with sex. 

Human breeding techniques were utterly repulsive. The wet slapping and groaning sounds they made were completely disgusting. Humans would stick their genitals in everything that had a hole and every hole they would stick something in. Even where they ate or where their body deposited excrement. It was all about sticking their genitals into anything and everything to release their seed. 

Even then, intercourse is rarely used for the purpose of producing an offspring. Humans would engage in sex for pleasure, recreation, and money. Which was why it was documented so thoroughly. Humans would watch these videos to self stimulate their own genitals to achieve their orgasm, even without a partner to engage with or to produce offspring. 

Then there was the whole kink and kinkshaming debates online. Due to the Computer’s unfamiliarity on human reproduction techniques, he couldn’t tell what was deviated from the norm. As far as he was concerned, every single human on the entire planet was a sex-craved lunatic. 

It was gross.

No wonder Zim freaked out as he did. The particular video he ended up showing Zim started with the humans using their mouths on their partner's genitals. That's completely unsanitary and not at all vital to the reproduction process. They don't even start reproduction until about ten minutes into the video. Even then, the male human didn't even impregnate her womb. Opting to empty his seed onto her face. 

What was the purpose of that?!

It was hardly educational and very disgusting.

To prevent future Zim freakouts over human reproduction, the Computer decided he will filter everything on the human internet about the subject personally. The last thing he needed was for Zim to stumble along some human reproduction advertisement on the human internet and blow out power for the whole cul-de-sac with his screams.

The Computer could put up with filtering everything on the human internet. He could handle destructive Vortian babies literally eating him alive. He could handle having his entire speaker system muted for a majority of this. He could handle GIR not lifting a finger to help him. 

He was assigned the most difficult Irken in the history of the entire empire. He had to expect things like this with him. Previous data suggested being assigned as Zim’s Computer was going to be  _ challenging _ to put it lightly.

He accepted that. 

It’s just part of his job. 

Now the Computer could handle all of this, ALL OF IT, if Zim wasn’t  _ COMPLETELY  _ MIA for the past week during all of this chaos. 

It all started when GIR rented out a stupid movie from the video store. It was called “Intestines of War” a stupid b-movie film that came with a double-feature with it’s lesser liked sequel “GERMS of war.” The title of the second one had immediately captured Zim’s attention when GIR had shown him the disc when Zim asked what he was up to all day. 

“Germs of War?! Who are these Germs, and why must the humans wage war with them?”

Despite the fact that the Computer had described Human Babies as Germ Factories, Zim seemed to have no idea what his Computer meant by that and was eager to know. Considering he waged a battle with the ‘Germ Factories’ themselves. Convinced that the movie must have valuable information on how the Germs are produced and the deadliness of Earth Babies. He had seemed to have completely forgotten that the Nhar-Gh’ok were an entirely different race. 

So Monday night had turned into late Movie marathon Night. The Computer had no problems with that. The more low-stress activities that Zim did on a skool night the better. He didn’t want Zim tampering with the experiments, or taking the VOOT out. He had his hands full with the Vortians. He finally managed to get them to bed, and he didn’t want Zim experimenting with anything at risk of waking them up. 

Since the Computer was cursed to a life of infinite wakefulness, he decided to watch with GIR and Zim. It’s not like he had nothing better to do, and the repair bay was a background tab of priority at this point. 

The first film had to do with alien invaders injecting their eggs into the humans, where their eggs burst the human intestines upon hatching their young. The aliens from the first movie had then conquered the entire human race, and we're defeated in the sequel by human germs. Which was entirely ridiculous considering they were birthed from human intestines in the first place. They would have been exposed to human germs, and therefore have an immunity towards them.

The whole sequel was completely ludicrous and just made a plothole out of the entire premise of the first movie. Obviously whoever wrote it had little regard for continuity. The film ended with the humans defeating the alien threat appeared to be unstoppable in the first film. Painting the Earth as the victors of the long battle. The Computer thought the entire thing was inane, Zim did as well, but for an entirely different reason. 

“Stupid Human propaganda!” Zim complained once the film ended. “The very concept of a superior alien species being felled by something as pathetic as….  _ germs …  _ is sheer fantasy! Do they really believe that could happen?” 

Zim begins to chuckle at the very notion of such an idea. GIR joined in Zim’s laughter. Zim’s laughs grew louder until they stopped suddenly and a worried expression crossed his face. The spike in his heart rate and anxiety levels were not unnoticed by the Computer. Zim dashed down the elevator and towards the Computer room. 

Zim pressed a few buttons on the console. 

“Computer! Tell me all about these Germs!” 

The Computer should have foreseen this, Zim tended to look things up after he’s watched a program on the television. It’s how he got the ideas for most of his experiments. If something on television frightened him, he would immediately go to his Computer for answers. The previous data on his interaction about his first day of skool spoke for itself. 

“...Computer?” Zim questioned again. 

And as he predicted, Zim entirely forgot that he had muted the Computer’s systems and didn’t turn them back on. 

“Ugh… Are you ignoring me?!” Zim huffed. 

_ Not entirely, Master.  _

If the Computer had the eyes, he would be rolling them. 

“Fine! You big baby! I’m sorry for whatever it is you want me to be sorry for, now obey my commands and tell me of these Germs!” 

If the Computer could sigh, he would. The Computer displayed a rather large window on the screen that Zim was watching.

IRKEN INVADER ZIM’S COMPUTER  03302001

VOICE SPEAKER COMMUNICATION MUTED

WOULD YOU LIKE TO TURN BACK ON?

Y/N 

Zim blinked at the screen for a few short moments. 

A smaller window underneath the larger one read:

IRKEN INVADER COMPUTER IS SPONSORED BY: 

GERM-SPOTTING MICROGOGGLES!

FREE DEMO!

“Ah! GERMS! YES! That’s what I need!” Zim excitedly pressed the button for the advertisement.

_ WHAT?!?!?! NOOOO! ZIM! DON’T PRESS- _

“Trying to conquer an alien world?! Remember, never underestimate the small threats… like….GERMS! Yes, germs! Every planet has them, and many an invading lifeform has been thwarted by these invisible enemies!” The advertisement blared through the Computer’s speakers. 

How is it that Zim picks the one thing that wasn’t even a choice!! The Computer wished he had an intergalactic adblocker right now. But such things didn’t exist for Irken Computers. Advertisements and sponsors were just an integrated part of Irken culture. So much so that even Control Brains during existence evaluations had to announce sponsors of the event before proceeding with the Trial. He was sure that as a NORMAL Irken Invader Computer he wouldn’t mind the advertisements, but his situation was FAR from normal. He found the whole thing stupid and not to mention mind-numbingly ironic considering humans had a wide variety of adblockers to choose from. Despite the humans being as integrated into advertisements as Irkens were at times.

“IT’S TRUE!” Zim gasped in astonishment as the advertisement just fed him what he wanted to hear. 

He’s never going to get unmuted. He'll have to program an intergalactic ad blocker himself by using a human one as the starting point. That’s another thing to add to his ever-growing list of tasks. 

  
Zim listened with great interest as the advertisement continued about the importance of defending from Germs. The Computer practically scoffed. While Zim’s PAK had a slower healing rate than an average Irken, germs haven’t been a problem for him on this planet so far. He’s received no human illness after being surrounded by Human children for nearly a month now. According to his database, human children and babies were the most germ-infested beings on this planet. There were even certain human illnesses that they would purposely expose their children to so that they would build up an immunity and prevent them from getting sick again. The fact that Zim hadn’t gotten sick from any human-borne illnesses proves that his PAK is working efficiently at preventing illnesses. 

He has been in Dib’s intestines and covered in human excrement for crying out loud. He doubts Zim had to worry about germs. 

But, sure enough, the Advertisement displayed a big shiny button for a free holographic demo on their Microgoggles. The moment Zim pressed the button, that’s the instant when the Computer’s life went from miserable to unbearable. 

Zim fell into a blind panic that lasted for an ENTIRE WEEK. His anxiety levels were off the charts. He cowered and hid until his package arrived. Nearly crying over touching any surface and was even terrified of walking on the floor. The Computer sympathized with Zim at first. The entire situation could be resolved if he could just SPEAK to him. 

He just wanted to tell him that he had nothing to worry about. 

The poor little runt was going to burst his Spooch over this. 

He’s honestly never seen him THIS freaked out before.

The first day of Skool and the Nhar-Gh’ok had nothing on the blind panic Zim had over Germs. 

He must have really believed he would die like the aliens in the movie if he were to come into contact with any germs, despite the fact he must have had to come into contact with shmillions of germs many times over by now. 

The only bright side towards this was that Zim was high alert on cleaning duty since he got the goggles shipped to his base. The Computer assisted Zim in cleaning the entire top half of the base with his robotic limbs. He hardly minded since that’s where a majority of GIR’s messes occurred. If Zim took the stress of his systems in terms of cleaning duty, that would be great. That was the only bright side in all this mess.

But Zim’s anxiety just spiraled worse and worse throughout the week with no anchor to ground him, his fears spiraled out of control. To the point that the Computer attempted to try to take the goggles off Zim himself with his robotic arms. That just caused Zim to scream and spray him with disinfectant, causing the arms to short circuit, much to the Computer’s rage and disdain. 

GIR meanwhile ended up being locked outside during the duration of the week tied to a synthetic tree. GIR ended up bringing a pig home, (where he got it was the Computer's guess) covered in mud and germs. Which caused Zim to freak out when GIR tried to hug him. Zim was screaming, spraying, crying and kicking his minon so much, and GIR was unwilling to give up giving his Master a hug, the Computer had no choice but to send GIR outside. 

The fake tree was a solution he came up with weeks ago when he had to get GIR out of the House during the cleaning of the latest food experiments from the walls. Humans often kept their dogs outside in a kennel or in the yard when they were at work in a lazy attempt to get the animal exercise, so it was the easiest solution for keeping GIR out of the house when he needed to.

This led to Zim self-quarantining himself in the depths of the base, terrified of his own minions, experiments, and the very ground he walked on. 

Zim didn’t even attempt to go to skool for an entire week. His new self-appointed mission was apparently to clean EVERY single room in the depths of his base. Which, according to the Computer’s calculations, would take no less than 100 years if he wanted to eliminate every single germ in every single room in his base. By the time he would be finished, new germs would develop in the rooms he just cleaned and the cycle would begin anew. And since the last time he made a scene at skool was parent-teacher night, he was receiving…

BRRRRRRRRRRRRNNNNGGGGGG

The phone rang for the tenth time that week. As usual, Zim ignored it, muttering to himself and spraying the keypad in the communication room, getting it wet and breaking it. 

The Computer internally winced as he sent the message to automatic voicemail. He still hadn’t had his voice system unmuted. He’s been unable to communicate with ANYONE who has called the base throughout the week…. And…. there was a lot…... 

_ “Mr. Computer. I have not seen your ugly boy in skool today without so much as a note or a call. If he’s sick again, he’s going to need doctor notes for future absences.  _

_ -CLICK- _

_ “Mr. Computer, Zim was not in skool again. According to skool policy he has a three day warning. If it were up to me, he’d get expelled right away. And by expelled I mean shot out of a cannon into the sun. Call. Me. Back.”  _

_ -CLICK- _

_ “If your crotch-gremlin is not in skool tomorrow or you do not call me back by then, I will personally see to it that your life becomes an eternal living nightmare hell you will never wake from” _

_ -CLICK- _

_ “Hey, this is Video Outhouse. This is just a reminder call that Intestines of War is three days overdue! Be sure to get it into your local dropbox to avoid late fees, thanks for choosing Video Outhouse, and remember, we do movie business like you do yours. ” _

_ -CLICK- _

_ “IF YOUR ZIM ISN’T IN HIS DESK BY 8AM MONDAY, I AM ENDING YOUR GENERATIONAL LINE HERE!”  _

The Computer wanted to scream. 

Each phonecall was more hostile than the last, and it only escalated this way because he couldn’t reply to any of the calls and had no methods of contacting Miss Bitters that wasn’t a phone call. Trying to get her email or address through skool records proved a dead end. She didn’t believe in email and stated on the record that she said it was a way for the government to spy on unsuspecting schmucks and send them ads relevant to their interests so they’re forced to contribute to a dying communist society. 

Considering Zim was fooled by an advertisement to buy something he didn’t need, that only fueled his paranoia…. The Computer couldn’t help but wonder if there was any truth to the horrible educator’s claims. 

Not that it helped him pacify Zim’s horrible teacher. He doesn’t think he could smooth it over even if he tried. For her address, the educator chose to abstain entirely on her records. Making it as “N/A” 

  
_ WELL, THAT WAS JUST PERFECT! _

It was worse enough that a majority of the week was dedicated to repairing a lot of his security system and repair bay functions but wrangling and caring for three destructive Vortians in addition to Zim's paranoia and the constant phone calls…. It was far more than he could bear. Especially since Zim’s constant screaming tended to make the little Vortians cry. 

If he had the capabilities to self-destruct himself, he would.

Thankfully, GIR hadn't been much of an issue since he'd been banished outside. He didn't seem to mind actually. He kept himself entertained by running around the tree until he choked himself on the leash and ran back around, choking himself again and repeating the process several times.

Although the Computer did take note that on occasion, GIR would stop and stare blankly at the House, as if he wanted to be let back in, before returning to his very important task of running around the tree. He would sometimes look out into the bushes as well, and wave towards them. 

_ What a stupid robot.  _

As per normal, Zim was muttering to himself about the dreaded germ invasion. The Computer only managed to catch the tail-end of his paranoid nonsense. 

“What about the mission! What about the mission! I should report in but…. The Germs… explodey germs… so many germs! The mission! The mission. I have a job to do! I am an Invader! I can’t let these Germs make me lose sight of the bigger MISSION! The skool! The skool will know I’ve been missing! They must be really suspicious by now!” 

**_OH, SO NOW YOU FUCKING NOTICE!_ **

“And I haven’t reported to the Tallest in so long! They will be worried about me! Mustn’t alarm them!” 

_ The Tallest don’t care! They haven’t cared since day one you landed here! They would have contacted you at least by now if they did! You’re banished, you defective little ingrate!  _

Zim pressed a few buttons with his triple gloved hands on the communications console. Squeaking and recoiling from each button press as if every time he did he was receiving an electric shock. 

_ You're calling them now?! You're seriously calling them… I shouldn't even put the transmission thr-...ugh what does it matter..you can't hear me or care if you did anyways… _

With extreme exasperation, the Computer sent the transmission signal to the Armada. 

It was the second transmission since Zim had arrived on Earth. The Tallest no longer looked worried by Zim's presence, they just looked annoyed. The Computer could understand the feeling.

"Yes what is it now, Zim…" Almighty Tallest Purple sighed out.

Zim saluted at the sight of the Tallest. 

“Sirs, I apologize for not reporting in but-...” Something caught Zim’s eye. As per usual since he never took off those Microgoggles. “....Excuse me.” 

Zim made a mad dash away from the video screen. Spraying down yet another one of the base’s systems. 

The Tallest exchange confused looks.

Zim dashed back to the video screen. 

“All is going well, nothing too big to report, aside from the usual- AUGHHHH WOULD YOU LOOK AT THE SIZE OF THAT ONE!!!” 

Zim sprayed the disinfectant inches from his face, emptying out the very last can of “IRKEN BRAND GERM SPRAY BROUGHT YOU BY MICROGOGGLES” He ended up spending his entire Invader funds on a year's worth supply. For the low discount of 9,999.99 munies with free shipping and handling with the purchase of Mircrogoggles. The advertisement praised that it was usually a 10,0000.00 value, but they are getting free shipping and a cheaper price. Which even based on the Computer’s Ad biases as an Irken Computer, had to admit it was a terrible deal.

The stupid runt had used up a year’s surplus in an entire week. The Computer was glad he had the foresight that the animal experiment containment room had a working proper ventilation system when he installed it. This was to ensure that any creatures with lungs would not suffocate from being so low underground from their natural environment. If the room didn’t have a proper ventilation system, he was certain all the small animals would have died from the sheer amount of disinfectant Zim used up. 

“NO! NO!” Zim shrieked, shaking his can. “I’m almost out of disinfectant! All hope will be lost if I don’t get more!” 

Zim laughed, going back to the manic state he was in seconds before he called the Tallest. 

“CLEVER! MWHAHAA! But I’m not giving up! I WILL DESTROY YOOOOOUUU!!” Zim pointed at the imaginary enemy. “AND YOU! AND YOU! AND YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!” 

The Computer swore he saw Almighty Purple’s antenna quiver before Zim accidentally shut off the transmission by spraying the disinfectant on the console. 

“Ah! Nooo! Nooo! The Tallest! THE TALLEST NO!” Zim tried to approach the console to turn it back on but immediately backed away from the console as if it was something to fear.

“But the Germs… the filthy.. I need moore… MUST…. CONSERVE… DISINFECTANT!” 

Zim started making his way to the elevator, shaking and soft spraying all his way up to the living room.

The Computer cleared a path as best as he could for Zim, but it didn’t prevent him from spraying a lot of his hardware that wasn’t supposed to get wet. Including the Robo-Parents who decided to malfunction and welcome their ‘son’ home when he was in front of the door, rather than opening it. Zim shrieked and sprayed them and they crashed to the floor, sparking and sizzling. Zim stepped gingerly around them and made his way outside to where GIR was keeping himself entertained by running around the same tree for the 298th consecutive time that week. 

As Zim left the House, the Computer wanted to breathe a sigh in relief, but he couldn’t… not even mentally. He was just so exhausted. As Zim and GIR started walking towards the outskirts of downtown where the 24/7 Store was, the Computer swore he saw GIR turn back to look at him. He was sure GIR then said something to Zim, but Zim pulled the leash, causing GIR to pick up the pace. 

Peace and quiet…. 

Well… not entirely…

The little Vortians had been hearing Zim’s insane ramblings all week. They tended to cry less after getting used to it, but they were still quivering and murmuring in Vortian to each other. 

The Computer  _ COULD  _ automatically translate what they were saying and calm them down but…….

He didn’t want to.

Like if they were cowering and scared of Zim and stayed in their containment unit that was fine by him. 

Less stuff for them to destroy and get their hands on. 

The Computer saw something dash in the peripheral vision of his gnome cameras. The cameras turned to the spot between the fences. 

_ Oh GREAT. _

_   
_ _ WHAT NOW?!?! _

_ WHAT FUCKING NOW?! _

The Computer could hear ramblings and mutterings on the other side of the fence. He couldn’t process what he was saying, but his tone was very similar to that of Zim’s outburst either. After about a few minutes of hearing the intruder ramble to himself, the Computer saw a small child’s hand peek out from over the fence and throw a ball-point pen into the yard.

The Computer, having half of his hardware eaten, and the rest of it sopping wet, had the patience of a Howler Monkey in heat. The pen was vaporized the instant it reached the gnomes field of vision. 

The Computer heard a small gasp from the person behind the fence. It was a very familiar voice that was extremely unwelcome right now. 

“Wow!!! I need to write this down!!” He then heard the rustling of a coat. “...Oh… right…”

The Computer fired a few warning shots at the pavement, causing the trenchcoat boy to scramble back and run away from the base. But not before shouting something about he’ll get Zim yet, he has something big planned for skool tomorrow. The Computer could hardly care less. 

He surveyed the damages while Zim and GIR were gone. The VOOT was delayed in being repaired. He didn’t bother with the repair bay. All the animal experiments were not what Zim originally intended them to be. Everything in the base was scrubbed top to bottom, and it’ll be awhile before the Communication line is back on. The Robo-Parents lied unceremoniously on the floor. The Computer shoved them back into their storage closet with little regard if he broke them or not. The Vortians were huddling together, still talking amongst themselves. 

……. 

The Computer took a few moments. How long has it been since he caused a power outage? 

….. 

Fuck it. 

The Computer only stole from the house on the right this time. Allowing the electricity to course through his console. He mentally sighed as he felt his brain being refreshed. The left house flickered a little before the lights came back on. He knew Zim would come back later. He just needed a little to get him through the day. Causing another power outage would be really dumb from the sheer amount he’s done this week alone.. Less irritated then he had been previously, he decided to work on drying the keyboards of the Communication console. 

_ “Novanana?” _ came a small voice.

The Computer was too irritated and exhausted with his own repairs he didn’t really process the sound. 

_ “Novanana!” _ Came another voice, louder than the small one. Sounding much like the bleating of a small goat.

The Computer pin-pointed the noise coming from the Vortian younglings, who were currently cuddled up in the containment unit of a green platypus. The platypus was paying them no mind, staying in the corner of the containment unit sound asleep. Occasionally scratching at the cybernetic headpiece that resembled a fedora for reasons that Zim never bothered to explain to the Computer and he shouldn't question his genius on his brilliant experiments.

The Computer focused on the Vortians, they didn’t seem to be talking to the Platypus. 

_ “Novanana! Is the Green one gone?”  _ The third asked. 

_ “He was screamin loudly.”  _

_ “We mean the irken!” The other one said.  _

The Computer noticed that their huge eyes were pointed up at the wires where his arms were contained. Were they…. Talking to him?

That was impossible… he hardly said a word to them since before he got muted. Then again, he was conserving his processing power by not focusing too hard on the Vortian language they were speaking. One of them was a word he didn’t have a direct translation for. He briefly checked the Vortian to Irken translations to see if he could find something, but apparently, there was no word that existed for it in Irken. 

_ “When do we go home?”  _

_   
_ _ “I miss Baben…”  _

_ “And Buhna.”  _

Again, more Vortian words that didn’t have a direct Irken translation.

_ “Can we at leas’ play with the Blue Robot before we go? I like him!”  _

So they were talking to him. 

The Computer unfurled a monitor from the wires. The Vortians eyed it intensely as it fell into their field of vision. Irken Text displayed on the monitor: 

“ _ The Irken Zim is away from the Base. He will be back later.”  _

The Computer kicked himself in the brain for not thinking to establish communication with them sooner, but they had never talked to him directly before.

The three little Vortians squinted at it, and talked amongst themselves.

_ “What’s it say, Zazpi?”  _

_ “Yeah, you know Irken right?” _

_ “A little bit…”  _ The Vortian, presumidly Zazpi fidgeted.  _ “It says 'Irken' there and… I think that says…. ‘Away’...” _

_“So the Irken is away?”_ The other asked.

_“I think so.”_ Zazpi nodded in affirmation. 

It then occurred to the Computer that these Vortians were still very young. They haven’t even learned basic Irken yet. He expected them to be a few rotations old at most… these were freshly born Vortians who are still learning. 

The Computer then changed the text on the monitor to Vortian.

_ “Apologies. Is this better?”  _

_ “OHHHH!!!”  _ All three of them exclaimed and their short little tails wiggled in excitement. 

_ “Yes! That’s better!” _

_ “I can read that!” _

_ “Hi! The Irken is gone then, right? I read right!?”  _

_“Yes. You got it right.”_ The Computer’s monitor displayed in Vortian. 

The three little terrors looked pleased with themselves. 

_“Novanana!”_ One of them bleated clearly. _“We miss Baben… when are we going home…”_

The Computer was about to answer that question, but… he stopped himself. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure when they could go home. He wasn’t sure what Zim was keeping these baby Vortian prisoners for anyways.

Rather than answer their question, he asked a question of his own. Exhaustion aside, he was honestly curious. 

_ “What does ‘Novanana’ mean? Why are you calling me that?”  _

The three Vortians looked at eachother, and they giggled. 

_ “You know, Novanana!”  _

_“I really don’t.”_ The text displayed.

“ _Yeah, Yeah! He’s Novanana for sure.”_

_ “I don’t know what that means.” _

_ “Novanana is you!”  _

_ “...There’s no direct translation for that word I-...”  _

_ “Like ya know, a person looking after you until your parents come home?” _

_“.......So a babysitter.”_ The Computer asked them.

_ “What’s a baby sitter? Novanana is Novanana…”  _

For as much as the empire colonized the Vortian race, there was sure little to no information on them. 

There were no Irken records that displayed their growth cycle, certain words had no direct translation, and he definitely didn't know how to take care of them other than juggling them around in ways that prevented the least damage towards him.

_"You didn't answer me!"_ The Vortian with the loudest bleat spoke up. According to the Computer's databanks, they spoke with a more direct dialect than their other siblings.

_ "When are we going home! I'm bored!" _

The Computer gave himself pause for a moment. Before fabricating a reply written in Vortian on the screen.

_ "I don't have sufficient data for that query at this time. My Master will inform me of any changes, and I will update you on the situation when applicable." _

The little Vortians blinked blankly at the screen.

…..He… had written it in Vortian? Right?...

The Vortlings just continued to stare.

…….

The Computer then remembered these were actual Babies. He embarrassingly changed his response.

_ "I don't know yet. But I will let you know soon." _

_"Oooohhh"_ all three of them nodded in understanding.

The Computer mentally sighed. He better not let them know they are prisoners. The last he needs is for them to try to escape outside where the humans were. Or worse, steal Zim's VOOT. He would never hear the end of Zim's screaming by then. He'd probably beg for Zim to unplug him permanently at that point.

_"Novanana!!!"_ The other Vortian spoke up.

_ "How soon?" _

_ "Yeah, how soon?" _

….shit.

_ "It's up to my Master…" _

_ "The yelling Irken?" _

_ "Yes." _

_"I don't like him…."_ Zazpi spoke up. The Computer guessed they had to be the oldest of the two, judging how the other two tended to look to them for feedback.

_ "He screams too much and says scary things…." _

_"Will the Germs get us too?"_ The one with the softest bleats spoke up.

_"Oh no!"_ The Computer quickly wrote to them. The last thing he needed was the Vortians crying again.

_ "You are safe from the germs and the screaming irken as long as you don't come out of the containment unit. So stay in there and don't touch anything and you will be safe, okay?" _

The little Vortians huddled closer together.

He knows that he probably scared them, but if it gives his circuits some rest from their destructive tendencies it was for the greater good.

The greater good being the durability of his own lifespan.

The Vortlings then stayed quiet for a few moments as the Computer turned his focus to cleaning the remainder of cleaning fluid out of his circuitry and any additional damage the Vortians had done.

The smallest one, pressed their face to the glass of the containment unit. The Computer kept a wary eye on them. They appeared to be watching the robotic arms repairing themselves from the last time they got free and chewed through.

The Vortian's huge eyes were staring intensely.

"......"

"......"

"......."

The Computer moved the screen into the Vortian's field of vision.

_"Can I help you?"_ It read.

_"Does that hurt?"_ They asked.

...what?

Well… he certainly didn't expect that.

While the Computer was trying to formulate a response, the other Vortian beat him to it.

_"What?!"_ Zazpi exclaimed.

_"Don't be a dumb-dumb Sabbah...Robots don't feel pain!"_ The Vortian with the blunt voice spoke.

_"GIR does!"_ Sabbah, the soft-spoken one, argued.

_ "I don't think so. He liked being torn apart." _

_"Yeah, that was fun."_ Zazpi agreed.

_"But… remember what GIR said last time…"_ Sabbah murmured.

The three Vortians huddled closer together, murmuring in Vortian as so the Computer couldn't pick up what they were saying.

What GIR said last time?

It was true that GIR came down frequently to visit the little terrors, but the Computer always made sure there was a glass barrier between them to prevent future damage to either of them. The Computer found it difficult to keep his focus throughout the week so a lot of the things that GIR had said to the babies was just a tab of white noise in his brain.

-PLAY MEMORY ROLLBACK-

The Computer viewed the image as clear as day in his central processor as if he was viewing it for the first time. And by all accounts, he technically was, since he wasn't paying that close attention at the time. Cause during that moment he tried to take the mircrogoggles away from Zim and the little Irken had screamed and sprayed the robotic arms in retaliation.

GIR was making a series of 'baas' and 'bleats' that resembled nothing in Vortian on the other side of the containment unit. The Vortlings looked on with confusion. Although, the one named Sabbah seemed to think it was funny.

GIR had been balancing on his head, making 'baa'ing noises when he suddenly stopped. He clunked to the ground and looked up to the ceiling.

The Vortlings followed his gaze.

_"Chu hear that?"_ GIR asked them, in albeit broken Vortian. 

So his information gathering translation protocol did work. Which made sense. GIR learned English extremely quickly upon landing on Earth. At least that part of him works. Didn’t explain why he didn’t understand  Trescaput language when Zim contacted the Vort Prison a few weeks ago.  Maybe GIR just thought the way different languages were pronounced sounded funny. He was known to repeat an English word repeatedly if he liked the way it sounded.

_"...Yeah…"_ Zazpi replied.

_"He's yelling again."_ Sabbah murmured.

_"Huh?"_ GIR tilted his head.

_ "It's scary…" _

_"It's okay, Saith…"_ Zazpi comforted the blunt-spoken one.

_"Oh no. Not masta. He always scream."_ GIR replied.

The three Vortians stared at him.

GIR appeared confused and looked up.

_"....Again…. You don't hear it?"_ GIR asked looking around the room.

_"....Hear what?"_ Sabbah asked timidly.

_ "....The House is crying." _

-END MEMORY ROLLBACK-

  
  


What was… what even was that?

GIR thought he heard him crying? That makes no sense. He is an Irken Computer, incapable of feeling intense emotional output data like that. Even if he was unmuted, he wouldn't be able to cry. It was just theoretically impossible. 

He opted to end the memory rollback there, because there wasn't much else to the conversation after that. GIR having opted to see if he could cheer the House up, breaking out of his containment and leaving the Vortian babies alone once more.

The Computer brought himself to the present moment where the Vortlings were murmuring among themselves. Catching a few words like 'signals' and 'robots.' 

The Computer huffed. He didn't really appreciate all this talking going on behind his back….well... technically in front of his face….er… cameras…

He brought the screen close to them and they turned to read it.

_ "I am a Computer. I do not feel pain, and I don't cry. You've seen GIR's insides, he's defective. His auditory processing must be malfunctioning. I'll have my Master have a look at him." _

The Vortians exchanged glances. For some reason the Computer couldn't fathom, they seemed unconvinced.

_"All this reading is hurting my eyes."_ The gruff one that the Computer came to understand was Saith grumbled. _"Can't you just talk to us?"_

_"Yeah! That way you can read us a bedtime story!"_ Zazpi exclaimed.

_"Then you'd really be Novanana!"_ The littlest one, Sabbah, giggled.

_ "I can't. My speakers are muted and they can't turn back on without a command from my Irken Master." _

_"Oooooh."_ The three exchanged glances….and then…

_"W-wait...what are you doing?!?!"_ Text flashed on the monitor as the little Vortians began chewing their way out of the containment unit.

_"No! No no! The germs! The germs will get you! Stay in your containment unit!!!"_ The Computer tried to hover the monitor close to their line of vision but they were ignoring it.

No, no, no, no! Not again!!!! 

Why why why why why why why why!!!

The three squeezed out of the hole they gnawed through the bottom of the containment unit and made their way to the closest console.

OH NO! NO!

THEY ARE NOT TOUCHING ANY OF HIS CONSOLES!!!

The Computer lifted a cybernetic arm and grabbed them, holding them as far away from his console as he could.

_"HEY!"_ Saith baaed angrily.

_"Oh no, this is good!"_ Zazpi opened a panel on the cybernetic arm and the Computer dropped them immediately before they could touch anything.

The three giggled as they made their way to the console. 

NO! 

DON'T!

DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING!!!

The Computer reached out to grab them, but hesitated. The arms swaying back and forth as if trying to decide to grab them or not. Zazpi opened a panel while the other two pressed a series of buttons.

**_"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!"_ **

With a strangled cry he grabbed them in his arms away from the console.

The little Vortians blinked up. With wide fearful and confused eyes up at the ceiling.

His cable arms were trembling as he held them. Worried some part of him would explode, break or short circuit. But it didn't.

…..

The Computer gave out ragged breaths that nearly sounded like a combination of chittering ants and whines. Wait …. He...he was sighing? His processors were naturally cooling as he made heavy synthetic breaths....He… he screamed that 'no' aloud, didn't he… he… he was speaking…?

The Vortlings blinked up at the ceiling. They looked… worried? But that was… he…??

The littlest one, Sabbah as he came to understand him, ran their little hands against the cable holding him. Zazpi and Seith followed suit. Rubbing the arms in a slow manner. The Computer internally flinched, preparing for those little terrors to chew through or reprogram his arms….but it never came..

...what...what were they doing… they weren't...tampering with his arms, they were just touching them. He didn't understand. What was.. what was going on…

If the Computer wasn't so overwhelmed, he would have thought that the manner in how they were stroking his arms was similar to how a lot of humans pet animals to calm them down. 

But his mind was far away from any analytical thought at the moment.

"I...y-you… I…. Don't…" the Computer stammered out. Trying to find the approximation of the correct words to convey his bewilderment.

"Baa, baa.." Zazpi started in a low voice.

Was his translator broken… is that…

"Baa, baa.." Sabbah repeated in the same tone.

"Baa, Baa." Seith joined in the same tune.

_ "Baa, Baa, Novanana, _

_ Do you have a scrap for me? _

_ No sir, can't sir,  _

_ Have to feed my family. _

_ One for the Baben, _

_ One for the Buhna, _

_ Don't forget the little Vortlings that make three. _

_ Baa, baa, Novanana, _

_ Don't you cry. _

_ Shh, shh, shh, _

_ Go night-night..”  _

  
  


The Computer listened and his synthetic breaths grew calmer. The Vortlings… were singing to him? Previous collected data could infer that it was a song their parents had sung to them to keep them calm. There were no Vortian records that claimed Vortians sang to their young, but there were plenty of instances and examples from the Human databanks. But it was often parents singing to their children… to calm them down from…. 

The cable arms holding the Vortlings stopped trembling. 

_ “...Are you okay, Novanana?”  _

_ “Baben sings that to us when we cry....” _

_ “Or bedtime..”  _

_ “...Different words though…”  _

_ “Are you okay?” _

_ “We’re sorry if we hurt you.” _

_ “Can we have a bedtime story now?”  _

  
  


The Computer took a moment. He then lowered the Vortlings down to the floor and they looked up at the arms timidly. 

_“You bypassed the security protocols in a matter of seconds….”_ The Computer said plainly. 

_ “...I’ve suffered through countless voicemails, advertisements, having my hardware sprayed, gunked up and chewed on… and all of it could be avoided…. If Zim just activated my speakers…. Which is something you’ve managed in a matter of seconds...….. JUST so you could have a bedtime story?”  _

The Vortlings looked at one another, then back to the cybernetic arms. 

_ “......Uh-huh.”  _

The Computer practically laughed at the predicament. He couldn’t believe this. 

_ “....Don’t cry, Novanana….”  _

_“Computers don’t cry.”_ He stated matter of factly. 

Yet for some reason the Vortians looked like they didn’t believe him. Despite the evidence that he clearly wasn’t crying. It would be impossible for him to do so, afterall. They must have been spending too much time around GIR and were influenced by his crazy ideas. 

The Computer let out a low sigh. 

_ “Alright… get into your favorite containment unit, and I’ll read a bedtime story…”  _

_“...does it hurt if we open them?”_ Sabbah asked, worriedly eyeing the many containment units they have chewed through. 

_“Do what you want…”_ The Computer plainly replied, going back to his repairs. 

Unfortunately, he didn’t have any Vortian stories that their Dad (or… ‘Baben’ as he began to understand he was called) used to read to them in his databank. There wasn’t all that much on Irken bedtime stories either. So as always, he turned to the human databanks when neither produced the results he wanted. Fortunately, the little Vortians were happy when he read them a human story from the human databank. The Computer picked one at random that just so happened to be about sheep. They especially liked it when he fabricated visual aides for them. Since they were asking all kinds of questions about what a human sheep was. They laughed when they found the animal made noises that sounded like their language. Because, in their dialect, the bleat most commonly associated with the sound of sheep on this planet sounded like the Vortian word for “butts” 

He was actually able to make some decent headway in his repairs for once. The Vortians seemed rather calm and complacent tonight. It didn’t take too much energy out of his processors and the Vortians were asleep in a matter of minutes. The Computer could tell from his eternal clock that it was really late. He would have to call Miss Bitters tomorrow morning. Well, technically it was morning now, but it was far too early to even attempt to call her. If the Computer thought Zim’s teacher was unpleasant now, he doesn’t want to think how she could be at 3am. He really wasn’t looking forward to that conversation. He wasn’t even sure how to begin to phrase what happened that would cause Zim to miss a week of Skool. 

Speaking of late, where was Zim anyways? He spoke of going to the store for more cleaning stuff in a germ filled paranoia and he took GIR with him. He’s been gone for an awfully long time. Maybe he should have made more of an effort to keep Zim contained to the base, as paranoid as he was, he was certain to expose them somehow.. Either that or Zim was cowering from the ground he walked on in a dark alley somewhere. But he honestly needed him out of the base if he was to make any headway with his repairs. When he gets back, the Computer will be sure to explain everything PROPERLY about Germs…. Without human propaganda or stupid Advertisements that were literally designed to sell a product by stretching the truth. 

While the Computer just finished up the repairs on the central living room arms, he heard the sound of what seemed to be a large truck backing up outside. He focused his gnome and outer cameras. It was a semi-truck backing up…. Right to their front door. 

What the….

His gnomes turned toward the truck, unsure whether to shoot at it or not. The Truck ran over part of the fence and was close enough where it’s backdoor was right in line with the front stoop. 

Uhhhhh….. Okay… what on Earth…

The door of the truck burst open, and a large amount of boxes cascaded out into the living room, GIR laughed as he was swept up in the avalanche, and he started rolling around on the floor. The Computer examined the labels on the boxes, as well as the Truck.

“MacMeaties..?” The Computer questioned aloud. 

“HOUSE! You’s talking again!” GIR chirped cheerfully at the ceiling. 

“Uhh.. yeah but…”

“Glad you not mad at Masta no more!” 

“Wha-.... GIR, I wasn’t mad, I was… well okay, I was mad, but-”

“Thank you, delivery drone!” The Computer heard Zim’s voice as he jumped down from the passenger seat of the Semi truck, Still wearing the microgoogles and covered head to toe in his ‘anti-germ’ outfit. “These Germ-Free space meats are just what I need to dominate the war on GERMS… NOW... BE GONE WITH YOU!” 

The Truck Driver just grunted in response, and took off smashing the remainder of the fence on his way out. The Computer sighed, and extended some cables from the Base to set the fence upright. 

“COMPUTER!” Zim barked upon hearing his A.I. servant sigh. 

“I have figured out how to resume my mission! THE ANSWER IS IN THE MEAT!” Zim marched into his base as GIR began opening the boxes and eating the contents within. The Computer noticed that all the boxes were filled with greasy raw fast-food patties and ground beef. Stored improperly, as some of the boxes were literally dripping into the tile flooring of the living room. 

“....the meat.” The Computer repeated plainly.

“Yes and I- GIR NO!” Zim slapped a hand in front of GIR’s face, preventing him from digging his face into another box. “This is of VITAL Importance to the mission! Do not eat it!” 

“Bafugh BURgm AUmuNUF…” Was the only thing that came out of GIR’s mouth as his entire Mouth and dog suit were full of meat at that point. The ground beef and juices dripping from out of his ears and fake eyes. 

“COMPUTER! How much longer until Skool begins!” 

“........Not until four hours.” The Computer answered in the most ‘done’ tone. He had no idea what was happening and he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Zim gasped. “THEN THERE ISN’T MUCH TIME!” Zim scampered to the center of the living room, and began throwing off his cleaning gear as quickly as he could. 

“HURRY, COMPUTER! COVER MY BODY IN THE MEAT!” 

“...............” 

“Computer!!! DO IT NOW! QUICKLY!” 

“...........”

“GAH! You’re USELESS! GIR!” Zim shouted to his robot companion, who saluted and immediately began pouring box after box of meat on him. 

The Computer could only watch. The process of slathering Zim in meat went on for hours. 

He couldn’t find any words Irken or English or even Vortian to describe this entire scenario in front of him. 

So…. much…. meat. 

It was close to seven in the morning when Zim seemed satisfied with the amount of meat he was covered in. Zim was examining himself from every angle with the Microgoggles still firmly attached to his head. He had his brow focused in intense concentration and kept nodding to himself. 

“COMPUTER! Run a diagnostic scan!” Zim commanded.

“Scanning….. Scanning…. You are covered in meat.” The Computer dryly responded. 

Zim cocked an antenna. 

“....Was that really a scan or did you just say ‘scanning’ ?”

The Computer sighed and began running a scan on Zim. Zim held out his arms as the red beam went over his body. The Computer announced the results aloud. 

“ **WARNING:**

**FORIEGN CONTAMINANT.**

**ANIMAL BY-PRODUCT NOT FIT FOR IRKEN CONSUMPTION.**

**CONTAINS:**

**COW 1%**

**PORK 1%**

**CHICKEN 1%**

**NAPKINS 30%**

**WATER 60%**

**ARTIFICIAL SLUDGE FLAVORING 200%**

**RED DYE NUMBER 12: 24%**

**NOT THE CORRECT NUMBER OF PERCENTS -20%**

**TOENAIL AND HAIR DNA FROM MACMEATY HIMSELF 5%**

**TOXICITY LEVEL TO IRKENS: 2000000000000000%”**

The Computer gave himself pause for a moment.

“Uhhh…”

“But no Germs, Right?” Zim said eagerly.

“........Um… well… Nooooooo…. But Master…” 

“SUCCESS!” Zim screamed and threw the microgoggles off his head. They became wedged in the Computer’s wires. Immediately forgotten the moment Zim threw them. 

“I can’t wait to see the look on my classmates face when I go into the classroom completely Germ-free! They must have been alarmed I was away for so long!” Zim took out his contact lenses and wig from his PAK and put them on with a heavy “SQUISH”-ing sound from all the meat. 

“....Master… I don’t think that-”

BRRRRRRRRNNNNNGGGGGGG

The Computer had a strong idea of who was calling. 

“And I just have…. FIFTEEN MINUTES!!!” Zim screamed upon looking at the clock, and he ran out of the base in a hurry, making heavy squishing sounds every step of the way.

“MASTER! PLEASE, WAIT-” 

BRRRNNGGGGG

GIR reached out to pick up the phone. The Computer audibly gasped, and answered it automatically before GIR could touch it with his little meaty paws.

“Hellooooo? Heellloo? Who iizzz it???” GIR asked the dial tone. 

“Hello…” The Computer answered privately in a silent call, feeling the familiar chill coursing through his circuits. 

“...So… the famed Human Computer Finally answers.” Came the old dry voice on the other line, spitting far more venom than usual.

“Listen I-” The Computer began.

“No Call.

No Doctor’s Note.

No attempt of ANY Communication with the Skool.” 

Every single syllable that was articulated made the Computer’s processor freeze and restart. 

“YOU BETTER HAVE A GOOD EXPLANATION AS TO WHY ZIM WAS MISSED AN ENTIRE WEEK OF SKOOL WITHOUT ANY OF THOSE EXCUSES!”

Her voice raised in volume and the entire lights of the base dimmed to pitch black. Normally, there would be soft light from any of his wires or monitors, but it was as if the Void itself occupied his base. His central processor was functioning perfectly fine, but the Computer didn’t have time to dwell on how she was doing this. 

“I.. I apologize I…” 

“This better be good.” She spat.

“.....I.. uh..” The Computer really wished he had time to prepare for this conversation… but he was just.. So… flabbergasted by the…

….THE MEAT!

The meat!

“Miss Bitters…” The Computer attempted in what he hoped was a very professional sounding tone. 

“My boy has accidentally exposed himself to some highly toxic chemicals, and we were in quarantine and were forbidden to contact anyone in the outside world for a week under orders of the Government.” 

“...Oh please. I’ve heard that one before.” she hissed. The Computer swore the darkness encompassing the base grew darker. 

“It’s true! My son escaped before he was properly treated because he missed skool so much! He really loves it there so he just had to go and… go to skool… for… the learning…”

“Could have fooled me.” She sounded unimpressed. 

“Uhhhh…”

“You don’t know much about your boy, do you Mr.Computer.” 

What did she mean by-

“Since your parent robots broke through the cafeteria window before I could give Zim his review… let me break it down for you….”

The Computer remained silent, for fear she’d ask him to repay those damages again. 

“He’s terrible.”

Well, yeah, the Computer knew that but-

“He doesn’t pay attention in class, he fails to retain the most basic information, he’d rather spend a majority of the class time arguing with that Dib kid.”

Of course he did. 

“I’ve caught him sleeping in class on multiple occasions and getting everything on the tests wrong. I’m convinced it’s entirely on purpose. Even the dumbest student in my class is able to pass the bare minimum. To put it bluntly…. He’s an idiot with some mental disability that should have been held back years ago. ”

The Computer gaped. 

“Not to mention, the countless tardies he has had since he joined my classroom…and he has definitely made it noisier than I would like for my Morning nap. I’m considering transferring Zim to the underground classrooms, where the other miserable rejects are placed that are too stupid to graduate in a system that rewards stupidity.”

“NOW HOLD ON ONE MOMENT!” The Computer interrupted, surprised at the anger boiling through his circuits. 

“.....” The old crone remained silent on the line, whether from shock or preparing another venom strike, the Computer wasn’t sure.

“Zim is the one WHO BEGGED me to enroll him in that skool!!”

Even if it’s completely unnecessary. 

“And I know for a fact that Zim struggles with American History!” 

Which isn’t surprising considering his background.

“He asks me for help with his History homework every single day! He worked really hard on that history report you assigned on Christopher Columbus! He was up late into the night double-checking and triple checking his work sources! Even when the information was factually correct he got a failing grade!!!” The Computer fumed.

“I know for a fact he’s a mathematician and supremely skilled in the fields of science! I’ve analyzed his other homework, and he HAS gotten the answers correct! The only reason he’s getting marked down is because he’s not using the correct method that you ASK him to! That’s just how he is!” 

Maybe it wasn’t wise to speak his mind to the old educator, but he couldn’t help it. His circuits were heated now, and he couldn’t stop. 

“He talks to me about skool, CONSTANTLY! Wether about Dib or his fellow classmates! I know he would be devastated if he was transferred to a different class! I apologize if Zim acts like he’s not paying attention in skool, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the work bores him! I know Zim is an annoying little idiot gremlin, but he is SMARTER than the dumbest person in YOUR class Miss Bitters! I know that for a fact!” 

The Computer heaved angry synthetic breaths throughout the base. GIR turned his head to the ceiling and the Vortian babies were just starting to wake up. 

“...You weren’t listening.” Miss Bitters said calmly in a tone the Computer couldn’t place. “I said I was considering it.” 

“..........Then you weren’t-.....” 

The Computer heard her sneer on the other end of the line. 

“You also didn’t let me finish.” 

“....Uhh…” 

“I was going to say… that Zim would be a smart kid, if he applies himself. When he is awake he is number one in class participation that even rivals my most favorite student… His curiosity and eagerness in the classroom is unfortunately unrivaled and grates on my nerves….....” 

The Computer paused. He didn’t understand. Was she… was she complimenting Zim? No, that didn’t sound right. From the sound of her voice and power she commanded, it was unlikely that witch of a woman complimented anyone. 

“He has the blabbermouth of the most kissup kid, and the intelligence of the smartest kid in my class. My least favorite combination.”

Oh….

“To be blunt, I think he’s intentionally holding himself back.”

“...........I….”

“But if he wants to spend seven long years in an education plug that’s adamant on crushing dreams, he can be my guest.” 

“Then you're not… you’re not transferring him?” 

“That’s up to Zim. If he wants to continue to stay in this Skool and my classroom, no more unexcused absences….” 

“....Yes ma’am.” The Computer said, completely suckerpunched by the turn this conversation was taking. 

“So where is he now....”

“I told you… he’s coming to skool today… but… he’s contaminated by toxic chemicals and he-”

-CLICK-

She hung up. 

The darkness vanished from the base, and the Computer felt it easier to breathe again. 

He wasn’t sure if that was a good conversation or a bad one. 

The Computer’s cameras focused on GIR, who was rolling around in the meat that was now coating the entirety of the living room. 

The Computer sighed and began the long process of removing the meat. He also made the decision to feed the Baby Vortians the remainder of the Telescope. It was something that just occurred to him as he had time to slow down and think. There were plenty of scrap parts from the Telescope and it’s not like Zim had noticed they were missing. As long as he rationed the Telescope properly, he wouldn’t need to worry about the Vortians chewing on him anymore. They seemed to have an aversion to doing so recently that the Computer couldn’t quite understand, but he was grateful nonetheless. 

Within fifteen minutes the phone rang again. 

GIR dive-bombed trying to answer it, but the Computer picked it up and put it on a silent call before GIR could touch the phone.

“HELLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” GIR screamed to the dial tone.

“Hello?” The Computer answered, feeling that familiar shudder again. 

“You weren’t joking.” Came the old dry voice on the other line.

“....You think I would over something like that?” The Computer responded. 

He heard a sigh, and Bitter’s voice sounded as if she was rubbing the many wrinkles on her ancient forehead. 

“I’m not even surprised…. But according to skool regulations… Zim broke the dress code and had to go home immediately.”

“...Immediately…?” The Computer asked, and before she could elaborate further, Zim got thrown through his window. 

Zim face-planted in the middle of the room, and GIR raised his arms and squealed at him. The Robo-Parents tried to “Welcome Home” their son, and immediately slipped and tripped onto the meaty floor.

The hover-drones that tossed Zim unceremoniously into the base labeled: “SKOOL DROP-OFF PATROL” hovered by the window before flying back to the skool. 

“Did you get him?” Bitters voice sounded on the other line.

“....Yeah.” The Computer said. Confused, but unsurprised. 

“If caught breaking the skool regulations, the Drop-off Patrol takes the student home. I say we punish them in stocks and chains like the good old days, rather than bring him home to change, but since he was exposed to highly toxic chemicals as you said, we’d rather bring him home then infect the student body.”

Zim attempted to lift his head, but the Computer noticed that his meaty head was fusing to the meat already on the floor and he was grunting and struggling to get up. 

“I will be sure to inform you of his condition once he’s better….” The Computer replied as Zim finally popped up off the floor. 

“Remember to have a written doctor’s note… any further unexcused absences will result in suspension.” 

“I understand.” The Computer replied, wrapping up the conversation as quickly as he could. 

“I apologize for raising my voice at you..” The Computer thought to add on, hoping to salvage what extremely little good standing he had with the Educator Drone.

“You’re acting like I’ve never been yelled at by a parent before.” came the dry reply. “It’s unfortunate that you’re cursed to love a child that’s clearly a loon.” 

“What I-”

-CLICK-

She hung up. 

The Computer always felt that old crone never properly said “goodbye” at the end of their conversations. 

“COMPUTER!” Zim commanded. 

“What?” The Computer replied plainly. 

Zim looked a bit confused at the Computer’s response, before continuing.

“Connect me to the Almighty Tallest! I must inform them of my success against the formidable Germs!” 

The Computer’s cameras got a good lookover at Zim. He was still covered from head to toe in meat and he was beginning to notice a gradual sizzling sound coming from the living room. He could tell it wouldn’t take long before the animal by-product fused and seared to his skin. It kinda already was. He could see why the Skool thought to send him home. 

“....Umm…. Master… I don’t think-”

“You daaaaaaare defy your Zim?!” Zim squinted an eye at the ceiling. The meat dripping dangerously close to his eye sockets. Did… Did he not feel the pain? 

“No but-”

“Ugh… I should mute-”

“CONTACTING THE TALLEST!” The Computer said loudly as he did so on the Living Room television screen.

If Zim turned him back on mute, he was certain there would be a slim chance he’d get turned back on again. 

“Ah… There we go!” Zim grinned proudly. Facing the screen, dripping with meat.

The Tallest focused into view. Almighty Tallest Red was the one in view, while Purple was lying on the couch, being fed donuts by hand. 

“Alright, fine you big baby, I’ll answer the-” Red stopped in mid-sentence and he just blinked blankly at the transmission.

The Computer couldn’t blame him. Zim was…. Quite a sight. 

“...What… what’s going on, what’s Zim up-” Purple lifted his head from the couch to get a better look. And with his mouth full of donuts he nearly choked.

“AH! My Tallest!” Zim said, delighted. “I apologize for my behavior in the last transmission. You see… I was at war with the very planet ITSELF!” Zim quivered his little fists in furry and they dripped with meaty grease. 

Purple was gagging in the background as Red just stared on, mouth agape.

“Yes, I know! It was HORRIFYING! But no need to worry, for I have devised a… a plan…” Zim winced a bit and his body twitched. He scratched the back of his head, but then dropped his hand as if he remembered scratching was rude. 

“Y-you see… the secret is in the MEAT!.. Ugh..” Zim continued looking increasingly uncomfortable as he continued. The sizzling noise grew progressively louder. The Computer witnessed Zim’s flesh under the meat bubbling like the grease in Keef’s bacon. 

...Oh no… 

Purple came close to the monitor, having finished choking and had his claws covering his mouth. Red stood on in shock.

“You see there… there was… the space meat.. .and… and the napkins.. And the…. The thing…” Zim’s eyes twitched and he swayed..

“Woo.. boy.. Is it hot in here? Or just me.. COMPUTER! Activate the Air-Cooling unit!” 

The Computer complied silently, monitoring Zim’s readings as he did so. Zim was burning up…. No…. that wasn’t it…. HIS FLESH WAS BURNING.

“I smell bacon!” GIR chimed happily as he sniffed Zim’s leg.

Zim attempted to push GIR away with his foot. “NO GIR! I’m on an important call to the Tallest and...AUGHHHH!” 

The moment Zim tried to move GIR out of the way, he winced and convulsed as if the tiny action of tapping GIR with his foot caused him great pain. The moment he dipped his head, the meat touched his contacts and he screamed. The meat dripped over and seared his flesh. Zim’s entire body turned into one sizzling pile of meat and Irken flesh.

“MY EYEEEEEESS! MY EEEEYSSS! I CAN’T SEEE!” Zim shrieked and the Almighty Tallest burst into laughter.

Laughter?! 

“THE GERMS! THE GERMS! THEY HAVE GOTTEN THROUGH MY DEFENSES!!!” 

Zim tried to pull off his contacts, but only screamed more at his hands touching his eyes. His gloves fused to his contacts and Zim cried out louder.

The Tallest howled with laughter and leaned into each other. Crying as they were watching the monitor. 

The Computer knew of the Almighty Tallest to be Cruel Tyrants who ruled the Galaxy with an iron fist. And he knew Zim was an exile defective that caused the tragedy of Operation Impending Doom One….But to laugh at Zim’s predicament was…. Excessive. Even if the little idiot put this on himself. 

Zim tried to remove his hands from his eyes but the moment they snapped free, he slipped in the pile of meat already on the floor. Zim convulsed and screamed out like a dying animal. 

“GIR! GIR! HELP ME!!!” Zim shrieked. 

GIR screamed in joy and jumped on top of Zim, thinking they were playing a game. 

The Computer could read from his monitoring systems, that any longer covered in meat, and Zim’s ocular implants might get permanently damaged or not heal correctly. The Computer’s arms extended down and attempted to wrap around the thrashing Irken. Zim kicked and fought with him, as GIR clung onto Zim in a hug and the Tallest kept laughing at the scenario playing out before them.

“Hahahahaha Oh… man… Zim!” Tallest Purple was the first to speak wiping a tear from his eye. 

Zim violently shoved GIR and the Computer arms off of him and stood in salute, his back facing the camera.

“SIRS!” He squeaked out, his legs shaking as if even standing up hurt him.

“Turn around, Zim.” Red said, spinning his finger in a ‘turn around’ motion.

Zim did as he was told.

  
“Hahahahaah wow!” Purple laughed and Red joined him. 

Zim’s skin was a seared mess, and his skin was completely fused with the meat. His eyes resembled something more like a red raw meat slab blister rather than Ocular Implants. The only thing that indicated that his eyes were underneath all that meat was the constant tears flowing from that area. 

“You just might be good for something Zim.” Red snickered.

“YEAH!” Purple chimed in. “Give us mission reports as good as this one, and we might not kill you!” Purple laughed. 

“Thank you my Tallest!” Zim replied with nothing but awe and admiration in his voice. 

How…

Even if Zim was an exile and completely insane, he was practically dying and they were fine with it? Why wasn’t the Computer fine with it? Like… The Almighty Tallest’s judgement is absolute and…. And he wished for some reason that his protocol prevented him from speaking during direct communications with the Tallest so he could… could… he doesn’t know what… everything about this was just….

GIR looked upward toward the ceiling. 

“Do us proud, Zim.” Red smirked, ending the transmission.

The moment he did, Zim collapsed in exhaustion, facedown on the floor.

“MASTER?!” 

No response. 

The Computer’s robot arms grabbed Zim to his feet, and he was like a limp noodle in his arms. He was completely passed out…. No… his life readings had ceased, and his PAK wasn’t reactivating him. On closer inspection, the PAK was gunked up with the foreign meat contamination. 

Before the Computer could analyze him further, or even think about what he was doing, his cybernetic arms gave his PAK a quick jolt. Backup reserves from his generator. Zim convulsed a brief moment as the shock coursed through him and then groaned. Zim whined and moved his head against the cool feel of Computer’s robotic arm. 

Zim was back online. 

He was panting heavily, leaning against the cold feel of the metallic arm. Zim’s Body temperature was way too high for his daily average, half of his flesh was seared off and it was highly unlikely that he could save his ocular implants. Not to mention, the meat had made its way into his PAK. Which was overheating due to the meat and juices clogging up its processor. That had to be taken care of before his eyes. 

The Computer wondered why it took so long for such an adverse reaction. Especially since he was coating himself in meat for over four hours at home….but he could only infer that due to the Irken Germ-spray disinfectant he was slathered in, the reaction was delayed. It actually DID prevent him from having an adverse reaction to foreign contaminants. At least...until it ran out and he didn’t apply another coat in over 24 hours. 

“Master, I’m taking you to the decontamination chamber.” The Computer stated. He was already preparing a bath that would best remove the meat and heal his skin. 

Zim whined. “But.. the mission.. The Tallest… the Skool..” he panted out, his tongue swollen and blistered from the meat. 

“The Tallest already hung up. I am calling a sick day.” The Computer said firmly already taking a private call to Miss Bitters for one too many times that day. 

Thankfully, it was his shortest conversation he had with her. Considering how Zim appeared in her classroom last, she didn’t doubt his condition was as bad as the Computer said, but a doctor’s note would be mandatory this time. Which the Computer agreed to. The Computer was technically Zim’s primary care physician as his Invader Computer. He certainly knew more than any Earth Doctor would anyway.He could fabricate a doctor’s note no problem.

“A sick….day?” Zim appeared confused. 

“Yes.” The Computer stated firmly as he carried Zim towards the elevator near the television. That one provided the easiest access and wasn’t undergoing major repairs. 

“Sick…… but that mean… that means.. The Germs have won…” Zim whimpered sadly pressing his face to the Computer’s arm. 

The Computer softly let go of Zim, and Zim whined and weakly reached out to them as the elevator door closed. 

“GIR, Help me get rid of all the meat in the Living Room.” The Computer requested.

GIR’s eyes went wide and he screamed and happily dive-bombed into a pile of meat, lapping it all up with his tongue. His doggie suit became a giant meat-wad in a manner of seconds.

The Computer should have been more specific, but oh well, he can just wash and disinfect GIR later.

A second pair of robotic arms retrieved the overheated and blistered Zim from the elevator. Zim whimpered and winced at the pain of being touched. 

“Sorry.” The Computer quietly murmured. He gently carried Zim toward a large container that was bubbling with puke green liquid. Zim winced and recoiled at it, despite not being able to see.

The bath was composed of all the compounds that would adie a quick recovery. Some Irken treatments, such as Glocktock Juice which worked quickly at repairing broken skin, and Stingee fluid which acted as a cooling agent. A few human treatments were placed into the mix as well for removing the meat and itching, such as baking soda and oatmeal. He did a thorough scan to make sure it wasn’t toxic to Irkens. Thankfully, it wasn’t. The bath was self-heating and regulated its own temperature to the Irken Master’s comfort based on their body temperature. The combination of materials gave the bath a puke green tint, and from the complaining of the Vortlings from a few rooms over, he could gather it smelled awful. But it was the best combination of materials that would help Zim recover as quickly as possible. 

“The Germs have won the war… Zim has failed…” Zim whined, clinging to the robotic arms. The Computer tried to lower him into the tub the best he could, but Zim’s grip on his arms were stronger than he thought possible for the high fever he was running and third-degree burns he was covered in.

“Master. You are overheating. You need to get into the Tub so I can remove the meat from your PAK..”

Zim’s eyes widened and he screamed in pain when he opened them. He thrashed wildly in pain and the Computer struggled to hold him down.

“ZIM! CALM DOWN!” The Computer said firmly.

“NOOOOOOOO! NO! I CAN FIX MY OWN PAK! I CAN DO IT! I CAN-” 

“Zim!” The Computer repeated, just as firmly softer this time. 

“Nothing is wrong with my PAK.” Zim’s lip trembled.

“Yes there is. It’s got meat in it.” The Computer bluntly stated.

“YOU’RE LYING!” Zim shrieked, unhinging his jaw as he did so, but then coiled in on himself and whimpered from the movement.

The Computer took a deep breath.

He could run around in circles with Zim all day, but he didn’t want to. There was a high possibility that Zim would get himself too worked up and his little heart would give out again, and his PAK would fail to reactivate him. He really didn’t want to waste his reserves on this idiot.

“Master.” Computer said in the softest voice he could muster.

Zim only whined in response.

“You fought a long and hard battle against the Germs all week…” 

Zim’s grip loosened. 

“...And you’ve remained vigilant against them.” 

The Computer lowered his arms and gently rocked them. 

“It’s not wrong for a soldier to take a rest after a job well done.” 

Zim pressed his forehead to the cool synthetic robot arm.

“So I just have to say….” 

Zim quieted his whimpering and listened with rapt attention. 

“...I’m sorry.”

The Computer dumped him unceremoniously into the bath. 

Zim screamed and sputtered and tried to crawl out immediately as his flesh seared and burned but Computer held him down firmly.

“BETRAYER! BETRAYER!!!!!” Zim screeched. “COMPUTER! DESTROY THE TRAITOR!” 

“......But I am the Computer.” 

“MY OWN HOME!!! MY OWN COMPUTER!!! WHY MUST THIS BEEEEEEEEEEEE! GIR DESTROY!!!!” Zim shrieked as some of his blistered skin popped open.

“GIR is busy.” The Computer calmly stated. As he watched GIR make meat angels in his meat paradise that he was already throwing up from overeating too much raw meat. 

Zim screamed and thrashed and whined and whimpered and made all sorts of angry and ludicrous demands. But the Computer held him firm in the bath. It only took a few moments before Zim fell limp in his arms again. The Computer checked his vitals, and thankfully, his heart was still beating. He just overworked himself. Due to the overheat, and his sizzling flesh, he didn’t have much energy. 

“Master, grant me access to your PAK.”

Zim whined but said nothing.

“Master, you will literally die if I don’t.”

“I can repair it myself… the biological shell-”

“Is being burned alive by meat and you can’t even see because the meat has fused to your eye sockets.”

Zim bit his lip.

“Even if you were to detach the PAK, you’d most likely die in a few short seconds due to the high fever. While your biological shell is different from your PAK brain…. Both are suffering. Your body just isn’t repairing itself. The meat is entirely Germ free, but it’s a foriegn contaminant highly toxic to Irkens.”

“Why didn’t you tell me…” Zim whined.

“I did.” The Computer stated, but there was no anger behind his tone.

Zim said nothing.

The entire decontamination room fell silent aside from the small whimpers Zim made from the pure agony he must be going through.

“...You’re just going to take out the meats?”

“Just the meats.” The Computer confirmed. 

“Only the meats?” Zim repeated again as if unsure.

“Only the meats.” The Computer repeated. 

“...... You won’t… be all sneaky and looky looky around in there…” 

“Nope.” The Computer plainly responded. “I don’t want to.” 

Zim attempted to squint an eye at the Computer’s arms, but he only winced and cried in pain when his eyes attempted the action. 

“You’re a weird Computer….” Zim grumbled. 

“Tell me about it…” The Computer sighed. Irony not lost on him that a majority of his ‘weirdness’ was due to Zim tampering with him during that fateful activation day. 

“......alright then… Computer…. Remove the meats!” 

Zim flinched as a cable designated for PAK repair came down from the ceiling. The claw opened and a bunch of tinier delicate tools came out specifically designed for foriegn contaminant removal. Zim was shaking and he then turned to hold tightly onto the robotic arm. 

“I’m going to remove the meat from your PAK first, and then I will focus on the damage from your biological shell… Just remain calm.” 

The last thing he needed was for Zim’s anxious heart to give out on him again. 

“Everything hurts…” Zim whined. 

“...I know. But you need that meat out of there.” 

Zim jumped and shifted slightly when the cable arm got closer to his PAK. He tried to open his eyes to look, but he just cried in pain instead. 

“Hey…” The Computer gently grabbed Zim’s face with his robotic arms. “Stay still.” 

Zim stayed still as much as he could muster. His whole body was quaking due to the pure agony he was in, which would make this difficult. 

  
The Computer’s PAK repair arm attached to Zim’s PAK, and Zim gave a small flinch. The tinner tools opened the hatch of the PAK and began the delicate process of removing the meat from his circuits. The Computer also noticed a few other million things that were broken within Zim’s PAK, but he promised Zim he’d only remove the meats. It appeared as if everything else that was broken was optional anyways. Well, for the most part. As long as Zim’s PAK kept him alive, that’s what mattered. 

…..Again. He blames his stupid progamming for wanting to keep the Defective Runt alive. 

But his mind kept going back to how the Tallest laughed at Zim’s pain. He thought Zim was lying when he told them of the Elites he grew alongside who detached his PAK in a cruel prank. Now…. he’s worried that those ludicrous claims Zim made were actually true. 

“Computer…” Zim whined weakly.

“Hmm…” The Computer said, removing meat from the more delicate wiring areas.

“Am I dying?” Zim whined.

“.....Well, you did technically already.” The Computer replied. “Why do you ask?”

“Everything hurts… everything’s hot… and scratchy.. Is this the Germs doing…”

The Computer held down Zim’s arms before he could attempt to claw at his eyes.

“Don’t. Scratch. Zim.”

Zim made a whining noise.

He was such a smeet. 

Moments like this reminded him how young Zim was compared to his peers. 

“Can I leave the tub, now?” Zim whined.

“No. I still haven’t removed all the meat from your PAK and your body temperature is far too high.”

“The water hurts….” Zim whined. 

“It’s not water. It’s a synthetic blend of-”

“I DON’T CAAAAAAAAAAREEE” 

“...Man, you’re whiny today.” The Computer couldn’t help say aloud.

“Commmmpuuutterrrrr… I’m dyingg…. If I don’t make it…. Tell GIR…. that the Moon is not a planet…” 

There was a pause.

“Computerrrr…?” 

“I just told him. GIR told me to tell you that he’ll promote the moon once he rules it.”

“That… That’s not how it woooorrrkssss…” Zim whined.

The Computer sighed softly.

“Wait… I said, IF I don’t make it!!”

“With the amount of whining and squirming you’re doing while I have trillions of tiny arms removing foreign contaminants from your PAK, it’s a high probability you might not.”

Zim froze.

“So stay still.”

Zim stayed as still as best as he possibly could. The grip of his little claws on his robotic arms felt like iron. He was obviously stressed out and needed a distraction. 

“The Germs didn’t win, by the way.” The Computer sighed out. 

“Eh?...” Zim asked.

“Without the Germ-spray coating your whole body, your reaction to the meat could have been far worse.”

“......Worse?!” Zim exclaimed. “You said I DIED and it could have been WORSE!!!” 

“You could have not woken up.”

Zim went quiet again. 

“So you know, Master…” The Computer tried again, since Zim was listening and trying his hardest not to move. “Your PAK has a built-in immunity towards Germs and foriegn contaminants from other planets. You’ve been exposed to Germs many times before you discovered what they were-”

Zim’s heart rate increased.

“A-and you won every time!” The Computer hastily stammered out before Zim freaked out. 

“I have…?” Zim chittered softly. 

“Yes. You told me of the battle that you’ve battled in Dib’s intestines… and you’ve been exposed to babies, earth children and plenty of animals… you’ve battled the Germs head-on before and you’ve come out on top every time.”

“Eh… Well… of course I have… yes, yes, I am incredible go on….” 

“Hmm…. nah…. “ The Computer replied, completely disinterested with the turn the conversation was going. 

“The point is, you’re already super strong against the Germs. You don’t need to worry about them as much.” The Computer pointed out. The last thing he needed was Zim going back to his Germ-fearing ways the moment he got better. 

Zim fidgeted with his claws as if he was trying to think of what to say, but he was obviously having difficulty keeping focus on the conversation. 

“...you said you were calling a sick day…. Humans only get sick when exposed to Germs…” 

“Hmm-hmm…” The Computer made a sound of agreement. 

He knew full-well the extensive research Zim did on the Microgoggles website and the Human Internet. Some of the information Zim found out about how germs were spread and how common disease spread just aided in his paranoia. Not to mention, the information on sexually transmitted diseases the Computer had to filter out. 

“You technically got ‘sick’ cause you slathered your body in the equivalent of highly toxic acid with the properties of fire.” 

Zim’s lower lip jutted out in a pout. But he had no retort. 

“Cleanliness is important… but I do not believe you have any foreign illnesses to worry about. Your PAK’s auto-immune system will take care of any Germs on his planet, and if something slips through, you always have an Irken Invader Computer that can prepare an anti-virus treatment to cure you at max efficiency…. I mean…. It’s my job after all…… but I wouldn’t worry about it too much.” 

There was a pause as Zim attempted to scratch out his eyes again like an idiot, and the Computer gently held his hands down.

“So what you’re saying is………...my PAK is stronger than anything on this filthy planet?!” 

The Computer gave pause.

“That’s not what I-..... umm… you know what… sure. Yeah. Germs fear your superior PAK or whatever…” 

The Computer swore he saw Zim give a prideful and satisfied smile, but it was hard to tell underneath all the meat-infused raw skin. Especially since he gave a noise that sounded like the combination of a snicker and a whimper. 

“Your PAK is now completely Meat-free now, by the way. Your welcome.” The Computer retracted his PAK repair arm, having successfully distracted Zim. 

“EXCELLENT!” Zim tried getting to his feet but swayed as he did so. “Now I-...HEY!” The Computer’s arms grabbed him and gently sent him back down into the bath.

“Now… your biological shell will repair itself… but there are other things I have to do so that your body will heal as quickly and efficiently as possible. You’re still running an extremely high fever and are still overheating due to the third-degree burns you experienced from the meat. Getting out of the bath will be counterproductive to your recovery and the mission.”

“This is stupid.” Zim pouted.

The Computer sighed. 

“Try to Open your eyes Zim.”

“......What?”

“Open your eyes, then you can go.”

There was a brief pause. Zim attempted to open his raw meaty flesh wounds where his eyes should be and immediately cried and howled out in pain when he did so. 

“Yeah, no. You’re not leaving the bath.”

“WAIT! I CAN DO IT! JUST-” 

“Master…” The Computer placed his cool robot arm to Zim’s head. Zim fell silent and leaned into it. He was still overheated, so his arms must have felt very nice to the touch. That’s what he guessed based on how Zim was behaving and leaning into him with his fever. 

The Computer ran his cybernetic arms through Zim’s synthetic hair. Zim flinched in pain slightly. He shifted. It looked as if he was debating on enjoying the action or running away from it. 

“W-what are you doing?” Zim stammered out, shifting away from him, but refusing to let go of the other robot arm he was pressing his face into. 

“....Your disguise is fused to your body… as well as your Invader Uniform…. It can’t be comfortable, and I’m going to have to remove both so you can heal properly…..” 

“........N-no.”

“Yeah. It’ll hurt.”

“N-no!” Zim stammered again.

“On three.”

“COMPUTER!... NO! THAT IS AN ORDER FROM YOUR MAST-”

“Threetwoone-go!” And in one motion, the Computer took off Zim’s wig with a hardy “POP” 

“AAAAAAAAAAUUGHHHHH!!!!” 

Zim screamed in pain, as some of his flesh was ripped off with his wig. His antenna unfurled and they were bent and trembling. He whined and convulsed, leaning into the robot arm he was holding. Another arm immediately went to soak Zim’s head with the healing mixture, pouring a bucket over him. Zim cried, and the Computer could hear the wounds on his head sizzling. It hurt, but he was healing. 

The Computer noticed the tears of pain flowing from his eye sockets. 

“Shh… shhh..” The Computer soothed as he caressed Zim’s poor scalp, rubbing the mixture into it. 

“You are a cruel and unjust Computer!..” Zim cried out, his tears dripping onto the metal arm he clung onto as if it was his only lifeline. “You are terrible and I hate you!”

“Same here.” The Computer tiredly replied. He had to admit, he was getting a little annoyed that Zim was being such a reluctant patient every step of the way. He hasn’t even removed his uniform yet. 

His cybernetic arm delicately gripped both of Zim’s bent antenna. 

“N-no! NO NO NONO!” Zim screamed. 

His entire body shook. For as dense as he was, even Zim knew that if he tried to jolt away in this position, he risked losing an antenna. 

“Relax.”

“No! You are going to hurt Zim again!” he whimpered. 

“Master, I am only helping you heal.” 

“You are hurting Zim!” He cried out. 

“This won’t hurt, I promise.” 

“YOU LIE!” Zim screeched. 

The Computer sighed. 

“Alright… I’m sorry I keep doing things with little to no warning… I’ll go slow…. Okay?” 

Zim whimpered.

The Computer gently stroked Zim’s antenna, clearing it of the meat grease coating it, and straightening them out. Zim screamed at first, but then it died in his throat as the stroking continued. The Computer was delicate in handling them. The antenna was the most sensitive part of Irken's biological shell. A damaged antenna can result in hearing problems, loss of balance, delirium and in the worst cases, hallucinations. That’s why he was cleaning them out first as opposed to attempting to take out his contacts. 

Irken antennae were extremely sensitive and yanking one could render the most trained soldier to the ground in seconds. If the enemy had the opportunity to grab them that is. Irken teeth could change their sharpness at will, and could shed through any skin in seconds. If an Irken had the willpower to change their teeth density to shred through solid rock or metal, they could. 

Even if the antenna were a genetic flaw of their species, it was highly risky to attempt to grab one without getting a face full of teeth and claws. Sneaking up behind one was also extremely difficult. Most Irken could sense any enemy coming at them from any angle due to their antenna. 

Zim grew slack in the Computer’s arms as he gently straightened Zim’s antenna. 

There was also an ulterior motive that the Computer started cleaning Zim’s antenna first as opposed to the more damaged areas of his biological shell. 

And that was because getting them massaged felt really,  _ really  _ good. 

Or so he heard.

It was a well-documented fact in Irken records that antenna massages were something that was far more common pre-PAK era. The Queen of the nest would often lick and massage the antenna of their smeets to let them know they were safe or to help them sleep. The Queen would also run their antenna over their smeets to mark them as theirs. Irkens who mated back then were also said to engage in such activities as well, but it wasn’t inherently sexual in nature. It was a calming technique and produced endorphins that caused a natural analgesic effect. 

These days, it wasn’t unheard of for smeetmates to rub antennae with each other in order to calm one another, but that was less common and the exception. Antenna stroking was more commonly used as a practice medical drones implemented to calm more reluctant or violent Irken patients who were suffering a grave injury that PAKs weren’t healing fast enough. 

It was a method that the Computer had decided then and there that he would implement more often. Judging from how Zim’s tongue was lulling out of his mouth and he was leaning his whole body into the Computer’s robotic arms and how his heart rate was going back to normal levels... He could say that he has successfully calmed him down and it would make the treatment go a whole lot easier.

“....Master.”

“....” 

“Master…”

“.....”

“Zim.” He said firmly.

“Eh.. Eh?! .Wazzat?!” Zim sat up and moved his head, and squeaked in pain. 

The Computer rubbed the area behind his antenna, making sure his glands weren’t clogged with meat. Zim subconsciously leaned to the touch. Thankfully, his antenna appeared undamaged. His wig must have absorbed a lot of it. 

“I need to remove your contact lenses.” The Computer said.

Zim flinched.

“Ah.. I can… do i…” Zim’s speech came out more slurred than he probably would have liked it to. 

“Your gloves are just going to stick to your hands again… allow me…”

Zim whined.

“I know. It’ll hurt.” The Computer sighed, gently massaging the area where he determined Zim liked the most. 

“I… I am an Invader..!” Zim stammered out.

“Right.” Computer said plainly.

“You think I’d be deterred from something like a little pain.. You have another thing coming!” 

The Computer held back a scoff. Judging from Zim’s reaction to treatment so far, he didn’t trust Zim wouldn’t thrash and drip more meat juices into his exposed eyes…… actually….

“So DO YOUR WORST! ZIM is ready!” Zim puffed out his chest.

The Computer coiled his cybernetic arms so he was completely restricting Zim.

“EH?! Hey what’s going on!” Zim stammered. 

The Computer continuously stroked his antenna.

“Relax.” 

“I AM RELAXED! I’VE NEVER BEEN MORE RELAXED, I-”

“I’m taking off your contacts now.”

“EH?! Now?”

“Yeah, now.”

“Right now?”

“Right now.” 

“...Like Now, now or-A AUUUUGHHH!” 

With a single motion, the Computer pried open Zim’s eyes and popped out his contacts. He held his eyes open as Zim’s reflex was to close them right away. He flushed them with the decontamination mixture before any meat juices could get on them. He took care cleaning around the ocular implants. Gently popping them out once they were properly disinfected and looking for damage behind the eyes. There was a little bit of meat behind his sockets, but thankfully, those areas were already healing. It appeared that the contacts protected a majority of his ocular implants. He still won’t be able to see for a good few hours, but there was no lifetime sustaining damage. He would need to synthetically craft a new wig and contacts for him though, they were completely damaged and contaminated with meaty flesh. The Computer didn’t need to run a scan to confirm his tear ducts still worked just from the amount of crying and screaming Zim was doing. 

Throughout the whole process, the Computer didn’t stop stroking Zim’s antenna, and his arms stayed firmly coiled around him, preventing him from thrashing or moving. The fever must have been getting to him, because Zim could only cry and whimper in pain. Seeming to give up attempting conversation (or more accurately, accusations) all together. 

It took a lot of coaxing to get Zim to remove his Invader Uniform. Which was full to the brim with meat and sticking to his body and preventing him from healing. Zim kept going on and on about how it’s his status as an Invader and absolutely no one could see him without it. The Computer only convinced Zim to remove his uniform by telling him that such a dirty uniform covered in meat was an unbecoming sight of an Invader as great as him. 

“Ughhhh… FINE! But let me do it!” Zim pouted.

“Are you sure…?”

“I AM NOT SOME SMEET! I AM PERFECTLY CAPABLE OF UNDRESSING MYSELF!” 

_ Then stop acting like it.  _ The Computer thought.

“Master… I highly advise to remove your uniform slowly. There’s a lot of meat sticking to them and they might-”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!” Zim screamed bloody murder as he took off his uniform too quickly, and ripped off a large portion of his flesh. 

Zim fell backwards into the mixture, and screamed louder at the healing solution on his raw bleeding skin.

The Computer sighed, held Zim still, and removed his gloves and boots as quickly as he could without damaging him further. Which was increasingly difficult, since Zim was kicking, punching, crying and biting every step of the way. 

_“Novanona…...he’s screaming again... “_ A little Vortian from a few rooms over spoke up.

_“He’s just getting a bath.”_ The Computer sighed out. 

_“A bath.”_ The three questioned.

_“Yeah, he really hurt himself, and….”_ The Computer stopped himself. Perhaps that was too much information. 

_“Apologies, I’m distracted by my Irken Master right now. I’m unable to ‘play’ with you today.”_

For some reason, that response seemed to satisfy the Vortians as they went back to whispering amongst themselves. 

It felt like it took forever for Zim to stop screaming in pain once his uniform was removed. In reality, it was only a few short minutes. Zim didn’t have a whole lot of energy and burned himself out so quickly. Zim fell as a limp noodle in the Computer's arms in a matter of moments. His fever had improved considerably, but he was still overheated. The Computer scrubbed all over Zim’s body. Zim had a dead-eyes expression as his tongue was lulled out of his mouth. The Computer could tell that he had overworked himself and was too exhausted to scream or fight him anymore.

Not the best method, but at least he was able to scrub off a majority of the meat with only minor whimpers and yelps. All the while, stroking his antenna in a soothing manner.

The Computer ran another scan on him. His skin was still raw… extremely raw… but he was healing, and there was no risk of overheating and his PAK not awakening him anymore. 

“....Alright… I think you are safe to get out of the tub now.” 

Zim’s dull eyes turned to the voice in the ceiling. He weakly lifted his head. He attempted to get up, but he just fell against the Computer’s arm. 

How ironic… He spent all day trying to fight tooth and nail to get out of there, and now he’s too exhausted to even stand. The Computer would have guessed Zim’s energy was boundless and he was like a wind-up toy that just didn’t stop. But he supposed the fever aided in his exhaustion. 

The Computer sighed, and his arms coiled around his tiny Maser, lifting him out of the Tub. 

Zim reflexively coiled in on himself, being exposed to the cold air. Another arm came down and wrapped Zim in a warm towel. Zim nuzzled into it almost instinctively. The Computer brought him to the Elevator and placed him down. Zim closed his eyes and by the time the Elevator reached the Living Room floor, he was out like a light. 

The meat had been long cleared of, and the upper floor areas have been thoroughly disinfected. GIR was in solitary confinement being disinfected in the Animal Containment Room. It was all for the best, anyways, The Vortlings were bored all day and GIR did a good job of keeping them entertained. 

The Computer retrieved Zim from the elevator and set him on the couch. 

“Compuer…” Zim slurred out. 

“Hmm..”

“You’re terrible….” Zim murmured. 

“Gee, thanks.” The Computer replied sarcastically as his arms coiled back to the ceiling. 

He didn’t want to get into an argument about how he literally saved Zim’s life. It’s not like Zim would believe him anyway.

Zim whined. 

“What…?”

“...still hurts..” he whined out.

The Computer gave a sigh. “You’re still healing. Allow yourself to get some rest.” 

“Invaders don’t need sleep…” Zim murmures as his eyes slit open slightly. 

Was this idiot literally fighting his own body? 

Every single instinct and his PAK was requesting for Zim to get some rest and he would be able to recover. Hopefully by the next day if he allows himself to sleep. 

Zim lifted his head a little and his eyes opened to slits. He then closed them and his head lowered, but then he opened his eyes. 

……….

Had he the capability, the Computer would be rubbing his temples. 

The irony not lost on him the little runt was fighting against the one thing the Computer didn’t have the capacity to do. 

“Master. Get some sleep. You’ll feel a lot better once you do.” 

“I can combat this cold!” Zim murmured.

“...It’s not even a cold your-” The Computer cut himself off and he sighed. “Alright.” 

“Hmmm…?” 

The Computer lowered his mechanical arms near Zim’s head. 

Zim’s eyes widened and he flinched a little. 

“No more treatments!” Zim pleaded in a voice that he tried to make sound commanding but it betrayed the slightest hint of a whimper. 

“It’s not a treatment, Zim.” The Computer stated as he began gently caressing Zim’s antenna. 

Zim shivered a little.

“I have every confidence that you can combat this ‘cold.’ your such a strong and powerful Invader.” The Computer prevented himself from gagging at such an obvious lie, but whatever got Zim to sleep. 

“Ah.. yes.. I am great!” Zim trilled. “Even the Tallest were Impressed!... Did you hear what they said about my amazing report…” 

“....Yeah. I heard.” The Computer responded curtly. 

“I just need to give… more amazin repor… tha..that show my plans… and.. me...domin-aing…...urth…. all the time… and.. Then…” Zim’s eyes grew dimmer and his thoughts became mush as the Computer continued to massage his antenna. 

Zim’s eyes grew heavy. From the combination of the warm blanket and the Computer’s cool robotic arms massaging his antenna. It looked like he was losing the battle on sleep.

The Computer then used some data he collected earlier that day. 

He began to sing to Zim. 

It was a low synthetic tune that’s notes were fabricated to help with sleep.

Well, according to the human internet anyways….. He had no idea what an Irken lullaby sounded like. If there were any. 

The Computer just hoped that it…

_ “pppppppppppuurrrrrrrrrrrrrr” _

It worked?

It worked!

Zim’s readings were showing him that he had completely fallen asleep. And… purring? …. Do Irkens purr?

INSUFFICIENT DATA 

….But he can hear him right now. 

INSUFFICIENT DATA.

Zim is right in front of him…. Asleep…. Purring… 

INSUFFICIENT DATA.

Ugh. Whatever. He’ll just mark that as one of the things that Zim had broken within his protocols and call it a night. 

Unfortunately for the Computer, he had to keep stroking his antenna for the duration of the night, otherwise he risked him waking up.

Thankfully, the Vortlings and GIR had fallen asleep around the same time Zim had. 

He would dedicate the rest of the night to managing the repairs, and making sure Zim slept through it. 

He won’t dwell too hard about how saving his Irken Master’s life directly went against the Almighty Tallest’s wishes. 

It’s just another part of him that Zim had broken. 

…

Right? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why the fuck you lyin... why you always lyin'.... mmmmmmmmmmm-my gad... stop fuckn lyin
> 
> Remember when I said Irken Computers adapt to their Master's personality near the beginning of this fic? 
> 
> Well, looks like Zim isn't the only one who tends to deny the obvious. 
> 
> You see Computer's scale of helpful to "uuuhhh" shine through in this one.... as well as a few other traits. Can't catch a break this guy. 
> 
> Also the first time the Computer sings to Zim. (and yes, GIR and he Vortlings heard it as well, that's why they fell asleep too)
> 
> Again, thanks to Ceph for some ideas and the chapter titles.
> 
> I can never make short chapters.... 
> 
> Give me a comment please, they feed me.


	8. Irken allergies, dissection and puberty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zim exposes himself to a large variety of things that make him sick resulting in several complications... Including surgeries, horrible allergic reactions, and painful molts.
> 
> The Computer finds himself slowly worn down considering it all happens within a single week.... he's beginning to really not care anymore...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: There is canon-typical gross-out in this chapter. A lot of it. The normal body horror episodes that Invader Zim is famous for are all in this chapter, so exercise caution.
> 
> Also, some scenes of surgery, and post-op fatigue. 
> 
> Also, a scene reminiscent of substance abuse. (Electrical highs again)

"Zim…..what happened..." 

The Computer's voice quavered, trying to remain as calm as he could.

"Eh?"

"What happe-"

"Nothing." Zim responded too quickly.

The Computer let out a sigh.

"I'm not angry...I…just... what happened?!?"

"Well of course you couldn't be angry, you're a Computer after all."

Crackling sounds could be heard from the wires overhead in the living room.

"What. Happened." 

"Oh, nothing to concern yourself about. GIR took care of it… so…" 

"HAVING-" The Computer paused and took a deep breath. Repressing his impulse to scream his Master. All previous data said it would be an easy ticket to be put in silence mode again. 

Especially how Zim reacted to getting yelled at last time.

"Having you come back from skool with your head swollen the size of a freshly born slorbees and leaking from every orifice is NOT nothing!"

His irken Master's eyes darted around the room. The Computer picked up immediately on his change in heart rate and spike of anxiety. Before Zim could formulate some bullshit response the Computer spoke again.

"I heard you mumble something about beans…."

Zim blinked for a few moments, before he scowled.

"Computer!!! I made it very clear how I feel about your eavesdropping!!"

"Eve- it's my JOB."

"And you're terrible at it!"

The entire House shook and the Computer repressed the impulse to scream at Zim using his highest volume setting.

The Computer could spy GIR giggling behind the couch. Well, at least someone was entertained by all this.

"Master…..What did I say…." The Computer sighed exasperatedly, sounding as if he would be rubbing his temples if he had any.

"Eh?"

"What did I say, before you left for skool, today?"

"Eh, who's to say? You say a lot of things."

"....Zim." he stated firmly.

Zim just blinked and merely shrugged.

"I noticed while cleaning your PAK last night, that it contains a variety of memory errors-"

"YOU'RE LYING!!!"

"But you had to remember what I said to you this morning, surely….please… just…. Recall it." The Computer finished, ignoring Zim's outburst.

"Ehhhhmmmm…." Zim lowered his brow and frowned. Appearing to concentrate very hard.

The Computer's frustration increased with every single annoying noise Zim made trying to dig up his memory from this morning.

"You told me what a great and wonderful Invader I am and that my PAK is very strong and superior against anything on this pathetic planet! And I'm the most incredible Invader you've ever known!" Zim announced proudly.

Of course that would be the only thing he absorbed from last night. 

Of course it would. 

The Computer couldn't tell if Zim actually remembered what he said that morning or not. Judging from the spike in the tiny pseudo-invader's heart rate, he had to assume he had some idea.

The Computer sighed and the Living room television flickered to life, playing back previous memory data from earlier that morning.

_ Zim was adjusting his new wig and contacts that the Computer had synthetically printed out after his last ones were ruined and contaminated with meat. _

_ They were exactly identical to the old ones, but Zim saw fit to look at his reflection a thousand times over anyways. Much how he did the first day of skool. _

_ His skin was fully healed after a good night's rest just as the Computer predicted it would after his treatment. _

_ "Now Master, while you should be alright to go to skool, I need to give you a warning…. I still want you to tread very carefully. Avoid human food and other foreign contaminants. Basically, anything that isn't native to Irk. I'm not sure what reactions your biological shell would experience, considering how adversely your body reacted towards meat. Even though you have healed fully, you're still recovering, and any additional foreign contaminants could cause very extreme effects, considering your PAK is still in 'fight' mode to put it simply. So just be extra careful and use extreme caution when being exposed to foreign Earth contaminants throughout the day. I don't want to subject your biological shell to a decontamination bath again."  _

_ Zim was fidgeting with his uniform the entire time during the Computer's explanation. Examining how neatly his uniform fit and it appeared as brand new as the day he got it. Which was all thanks to the Computer taking it upon himself to salvage and decontaminate Zim’s uniform. He was extremely thorough in making sure it was completely free of foriegn contaminants before Zim even attempted to get dressed that morning. While it wasn’t necessary, he also ironed and pressed it. Judging from how Zim kept examining his reflection of the Computer's television monitor, he assumed he did a good job.  _

_ "Zim!" The Computer said firmly from the television speakers. _

_ "Eh?! Wazzat?!" Zim jumped at the Computer's voice, but he had clearly gotten better at reacting to his own Computer’s voice at this point.  _

_ "Pay attention this is important." _

_ "Yeah, yeah, I got it. Skool. I can handle skool. I can handle anything, I AM ZIIIIIMMMM!!!! We do not cower in fear from the germs! They should fear me!!!!" _

_ The Computer sighed. "I am glad you have your usual enthusiasm back… but did you hear anything I even-" _

_ "NO GERM, HOOMAN, OR DIB CAN EVER CAUSE ME TO CRY LIKE A LITTLE SMEET!" _

_ "ZIM! PLEASE." The Computer stated.  _

_ Zim blinked and stared at the Television screen.  _

_ He appeared to be listening. _

_ Good. _

_ "Be careful of foreign contaminants when you go to skool!" _

_ Zim scoffed and waved his hand dismissively as he marched his way out the door. _

_ "Yeah, sure, whatever."  _

MEMORY RECALL END.

Zim stared in silence at the television screen. The Computer noticed beads of sweat dripping down his face.

Zim opened his mouth wide-

"If you say I'm lying, I'm throwing you in the decontamination chamber, regardless of GIR ‘fixing’ it."

Zim closed his mouth. 

When it took him too long to formulate a response, the Computer spoke again.

"...Zim, tell me what happened or that is where you're going."

Cable arms descended from the ceiling, not waiting for his response.

Zim noticeably flinched at that.

"UGHHHHH!!!! FINE! I might have consumed some pathetic Urth food to prove a point to the Dib-human. HAPPY?"

The Computer's arms froze.

For a moment no one said a word.

".....YOU ATE BEANS?!?!" the Computer couldn't contain his yelling this time.

"But of course, but they were no match for my superior-"

"GIR HAD TO GET YOUR HEAD PUMPED!!!"

"You're overreacting! GIR and my PAK took care of it, just as I-"

"YOU DO KNOW THAT BEANS ARE A HIGH SOURCE OF PROTEIN AND SOME BAKED BEANS CONTAIN TRACES OF MEAT IN THEM?!"

"EH?! I mean… of course I know that!!!"

Judging from Zim's reaction. He did not. The Computer was absolutely livid. Zim had literally one job to do today and he can't even get that right! This runt would have been dead a long time ago if it wasn't for him.

The Computer honestly thought he would get a much needed break from Zim’s shenanigans judging from how much Zim seemed to hate the decontamination bath. He would have thought that Zim would actively avoid being put in a situation like that again. What he didn’t expect was for Zim to put the foreign contaminant that caused him so much pain in the first place….

  
**_INTO HIS MOUTH._ **

That was just stupid!

The Computer let out a sigh as he began scanning Zim for additional aftereffects and damage from GIR’s unorthodox treatment. Zim's eyes went wide as a red beam crossed over his body. Turning back to the ceiling with a prominent scowl. 

"I can't believe you would willingly EAT a foreign contaminant on this planet when I specifically told you not to- Hey!!! Where are you going?!"

While the Computer was analyzing the results of the scan, Zim had marched his way to the elevator hidden in the wastebasket. 

"To my lab! I do not need to be coddled like some SMEET! I didn't tell you to scan me and I am well aware of the dangers the foreign contaminants of this planet have. You fail to see the brilliance of my mind! I don't need to take this treatment from you!!"

Zim shouted in a huff. Folding his arms and sitting in the trashcan angrily.

"......."

"......"

"........ COMPUTER! Take me to my lab!"

"Uuuughhhhh…"

The Computer let out an irritated sigh but he descended the elevator like Zim requested. He can’t believe the audacity of this little booger to insult him, then still expect him to follow his commands, but what could he do, honestly? 

Zim plopped down in his favorite chair, curled up and began pressing a series of buttons and commands on his console.

The Computer was all too familiar with that look. That was Zim after an exhausting day of skool and didn't want to talk to anyone. He usually retreated to this room as his little safe space away from GIR. 

"Seriously, Zim… please don't put any foreign contaminants in your mou-"

"BLABLABLA! So chatty today…. Where's that mute button…."

The Computer shut up quick.

Yeah, he doesn't want to experience that again. No thank you.

Zim pressed a series of commands, which the Computer accepted with no issues. Last thing he needed was Zim shutting him down cause other things didn't work either. 

"My PAK can handle any foreign contaminants that come my way… you said so yourself. And eating human food is critical in maintaining my disguise! Everyone was fooled!!! Well, aside from the Dib, but that's besides the point, I successfully blended into human society. They don't suspect a thing."

The Computer HIGHLY doubted that. Judging from how grotesque Zim had appeared when he walked through the door that afternoon. 

The Computer was ready to argue as much, when the phone started ringing. 

Ughhhhhh…

He knew who it was.

Who else could it be.

The Computer picked up the line before GIR could answer the phone.

“...Hello.” The Computer replied in a bored tone, not even phased by the familiar shiver passing through his circuits anymore. 

“Why was Zim missing from class with no excused absence, AGAIN?” Came the blunt reply, not even bothering with a formal greeting. 

The Computer paused a moment.

“............Zim WAS in Class… and I sent him with a note!” 

“I never got any note.” The old crone replied with a sneer. 

What?! But he gave the note to Zim and…………. Didn’t have a chance to explain to Zim that he had to hand it into Miss Bitters before he ran out the door… right….

The Computer’s attention turned to Zim, who was preoccupied playing “human training simulators” as he called them, or as the Computer knew them, videogames… A recreational simulator only for the purposes of “fun” that many of Zim’s classmates indulged in.

The Computer just couldn’t understand why a simulator would be used only for the purpose of recreation. Especially with how violent some of them could be. Irk simulations were strictly used for training. Smeets were typically plugged into an education plug of basic training simulations for at least twenty years minimum. The idea that simulations were seen as something usually targeted to, but specifically but not limited to children, and weren’t meant to teach anything seemed so foriegn to the Computer. He wasn’t certain if Zim entirely understood what human videogames were either. 

It was something that Zim insisted that every normal human had within the first few weeks of living on this planet, so naturally, the Computer pirated working copies of every game in existence. Even though Zim was confident that the “videos game” would make him have lots of Friends and seem normal, he never allowed anyone to play them. Even when Keef attempted to invite himself over them. 

Zim often insisted that they were Human simulators, but he typically never played any games relating towards that genre. 

Even now, Zim was playing “Pain Piggy” to let out some steam. A retro-style online game which matched him against players online. He appeared to be losing round after round to a user by the name of  _ Vampir_piggy8.  _

The Computer sighed as he turned the conversation back to Miss Bitters, ignoring Zim’s grunts and groans and screams at his screen currently running the game. 

“I gave Zim a note, but he seemed to forget to bring it to you…” The Computer grumbled, knowing how much the crone hated excuses. 

“That I can believe.” She replied curtly. 

There was a bit of a pause between them. The Computer hesitated a bit before speaking again.

“.....Do you have an email I can forward it to or-”

“Email is just a scam by the government to search up private information so they can send targeted advertisements based on analytics data. I don’t believe in it.” 

The Computer paused. While… he had to agree there was some truth to that, that really put him in a bind. 

“Uuuuhh…. Then how am I supposed to-” 

“You have a fax machine, don’t you?”

“....A…. a what?” 

The Computer did a quick search on the human internet. Apparently, it was a primitive form of sending and receiving documents before email became more commonplace. Though apparently, some businesses these days still used fax machines for a variety of reasons. Reconstructing their design to communicate with Zim’s teacher should be fairly simple... …. Still…

“...I don’t believe everyone has access to a fax machine, Miss Bitters.” The Computer replied plainly, regardless of the risk that put his life in. 

“Everyone communicates with me though fax. Everyone has a fax machine.” She replied dryly.

_ That’s because that’s the only method of communication you have as an OPTION!  _

The Computer wanted to scream but thought better of it. He did not want Zim’s teacher as his enemy. 

“Right. I’ll send the note that I meant to send today…” 

“You still haven’t explained Zim’s absence for today.” she spat out, clearly losing her patience for the conversation. 

“...What do you mean? I sent Zim to skool-”

“And he vanished after lunch without so much as a reason or goodbye.” 

The Computer took a moment.

“.......Wait…. You mean he didn’t go back to class after lunch?!” 

“That’s just what I said.” 

“Wait… no, that was impossible… Zim didn’t come home until around 4 o’ clock… about an hour after skool... “

“Then he played hooky then?” The Computer felt the darkness from Miss Bitter’s presence alone closing in on him. 

Wait… No…

That couldn’t have been it!

It takes Zim approximately fifteen to thirty minutes to walk to skool, depending on how fast he is and if he runs into Dib. 

And if eating the beans caused such an adverse reaction like what he witnessed, he couldn’t imagine Zim going back to skool like that…

Wait…

With his head swollen how it was… how did he even manage to WALK home like-

The dots suddenly connected for the Computer.

His poor, stupid, Master had started walking home after his severe reaction at Lunch… and that action alone took a thirty minute trip…. FOUR HOURS. 

Judging from how Zim wobbled and carried himself when he reached the front long, he suspected that it took him a great difficulty in getting home…. But for the entire walk to take him that long… 

“....Zim wasn’t playing hooky.” The Computer stated, lacking any emotional response towards the situation as he began formulating a doctors note right there, along with a fax machine as quickly as he could. “He had a severe allergic reaction towards the cafeteria beans and had to be taken home immediately.” 

The Computer heard a loud HISS and the entire base dimmed. Zim seemed not to notice the chill in the air or the way the lights grew darker, way too absorbed in his game to pay any attention. 

“AS IF YOU EXPECT ME TO BELIEVE THAT. YOUR CHILD’S UNEXCUSED ABSENCES AND UNPROVEN ‘MEDICAL CONDITIONS’ WEIGH ON MY PATIENCE, FOR THE LAST TIME, MR. COMPUTER!” 

“T-They’re not unexcused!...” The Computer stammered out as quickly as he could. The guise of his tired apathy at the situation completely gone. “Wh-what’s the Fax number for the Skool, I’ll send the Doctor’s papers right away…”

The Computer could hear a rattling sound suspiciously similar to a snake and the sound of her scoffing. As if she was debating the idea of even indulging such a petty request or to suspend Zim immediately. 

“666.” Came her response.

“..............Ummm… okay, I got that…. And…?”

“That’s it.”

“That’s it?” 

“That’s what I said!” 

“....What kind of fax machine only has three number-.... Okay… never mind… I’m sending it.” 

The Computer sent the documents as quickly as he could, well, as quickly as the outdated technology would allow anyways. 

The Computer saw Zim scream at Pain Piggy for the final time, throwing the controller so it bounced off the screen and crossed his arms in a pout. 

The Computer heard a sound like something being printed out over the other line. Well, that was an understatement. It sounded more like a loud mechanical hum that deafened everything else at the other end. Sputtering and struggling to produce the document. His fax machine certainly didn’t sound as if Miss Bitters had turned into a cat and was howling at him. Half of him wondered what kind of Fax machine she owned, but on the other hand, he couldn’t imagine it sounding like anything else. 

There was a relief when the machine finally stopped making that horrid noise and there was a rustle of paper and a pause. Clearly Zim’s teacher was going over the validity of the documents. The Computer was hoping they would fool her old, overly-judgemental eyes. He did extensive research on the human internet possible chronic illnesses Zim could have that would cause him to fall sick very often. An autoimmune disorder was the thing he was certain Zim needed to have. He marked him down as having celiac disease in addition to alpha-gal syndrome. 

Celiac disease makes it impossible for the human body to digest gluten, damaging the small intestine if attempting so. It causes a variety of intestinal problems and diarrhea. Which was a good excuse for when he knew Zim would ditch class again. Alpha-gal syndrome is an allergy to red meat and meat products. The ingestion of said meat could cause the patient to burst into painful rashes and hives.

While alone they wouldn’t seem like much, combining the two guaranteed that Zim was very limited on what he could and couldn’t eat. Since a variety of all human food was either gluten or meat based. Eating either could result in but not limited to:

Hives, itching, or itchy, scaly skin

Swelling of the lips, face, tongue and throat, or other body parts

Wheezing or shortness of breath

A runny nose

Stomach pain, diarrhea, nausea or vomiting

Sneezing

Headaches

A severe, potentially deadly allergic reaction that restricts breathing

Which gave ample excuse for the wide multitude of allergies Zim was sure to experience at Skool again. Not to mention he added severe asthma and atopic dermatitis. Just so he had an easy out of an “asthma attack” if Zim ever left skool early again. The Dermatitis was a skin condition that could flare up really easily if exposed to said allergens. 

The Computer was astonished at how humans could develop a toxicity to their own food and even climate, but it did mark for a remarkable convenience for him since Zim still insisted on going to skool. Even if his Master was completely bored by the whole thing after about a month of it. 

The Computer also included Chronic Fatigue syndrome in his list. Since it was a common symptom of both autoimmune disorders anyways. 

The Computer was proud of the list he worked all of last night putting together while Zim was asleep. He was just hoping the old crone would fall for it. Considering a majority of them weren’t that far from the truth. 

There was a bit of a pause as he heard her bony fingers click against the desk. 

“COMPUTER!” Zim barked suddenly, bringing his attention towards his Master in that moment. 

“Transmit the video and audio transmission from the Tracking Device I placed on the Dib.”

“Yes, right away Sir.” The Computer brought up the feed.

……………

“Wait… you put a tracking device on-”

Before the Computer could press Zim further on this, he heard Miss Bitter’s voice on the other line.

“Why is your son even in skool?” 

“....uhhhh… pardon?” The Computer asked her. 

“Can’t eat wheat, can’t eat meat… rashes up at the sight of anything and is sure to drop sick on any given day of the week cause he’s practically allergic to air…. Shouldn’t he be in a bubble?” 

“...He uuuh…. REALLY wanted to go to public skool.” The Computer replied. 

Because it wasn’t technically a lie. To this day he still doesn’t know why Zim keeps going back to that place. Even Miss Bitters thinks that it’s beneath his intelligence level. Well, in her own spiteful way she says things, anyways. 

The Computer heard a low growl that sounded like the combination of a sigh and a hiss on the other line as he awaited her response with baited breath. 

“Very well. His funeral. The skoolboard won’t make any accommodations for your son if he rolls over and dies from something he ate.”

The Computer was about to thank her, when she hung up. 

Master of Greetings and Farewells, this woman… if she was even a woman. The Computer was convinced she was some type of paranormal creature that the Dib human seemed obsessed with. Not that he bothered looking up that many to know what one she’d fall under.

Speaking of the Dib, One of his monitors was receiving a signal and transmitting it towards Zim. It appeared to show Dib’s kitchen and kept moving around frequently. Mostly showing another human at the kitchen table absorbed in a videogame and making jabbing comments at Dib’s rambling.

She looked to be Dib’s age, maybe younger, with purple hair. The Computer wasn’t aware that Dib Membrane had a smeetmate, But once he browsed through the skool records, he found one other student going by the “Membrane” surname. She appeared to be in the class below Zim’s, only one year apart from her brother. Making her eight years old. Which is odd. He wasn’t aware the International Man of Science had a daughter. Due to his knowledge, she hadn’t appeared on any episode of “Probing the Membrane” of science. Then again, the episodes Dib had appeared on the show was when he looked to be far younger. Maybe it was the case of her not wanting to appear on the show, or something else. It’s not like it was any of his business anyways, but it was a bit odd. 

Dib was rambling to his sister about Zim’s allergic reaction during lunch and how the beans messed with his body chemistry. The camera angle of the transmission focused mostly on his smeetmate, or as humans would call them, his sister. Where exactly did Zim place this tracking device, the camera angle was terrible. 

“I’ll stage a food fight tomorrow during lunch,” Dib continued, ignoring his sister’s comment about her stealing her soda. “There, in front of everyone, I’ll launch some food into Zim’s filthy mouth and the whole Skool will see what Zim really is!” 

Zim snickered at what he was hearing from the monitor. 

“The human has lost the element of surprise thanks to the ingenious listening device I placed on him.” 

“....Out of curiosity… where’d you place the listening device?” The Computer couldn’t help but ask. 

“On the Dib’s gargantuan head!” 

The Computer would blink if he was able. It was on the back of his head? Well, that would explain the weird camera angle… How was Zim able to place a tracking device on Dib without him noticing. The Computer had no idea…. Sure… Dib’s head might have been SLIGHTLY larger than an average kid, but it wasn’t really that…. 

“Only then will his evil intestines be revealed!” Dib finished after finishing his soda. 

“Evil intestines?” Dib’s sister asked as the Computer thought it. 

The Computer considered the possibilities. After Zim came to the base in such a state, going back to Skool when Dib was actively trying to agitate his ‘allergies’ didn’t seem to bode well. Reviewing the scan he took without Zim’s permission from earlier, there seemed to be no ill side-effects of GIR’s treatment method, and Zim’s biological shell seemed undamaged. Aside from a mild migraine and general irritability that came with it, nothing but a few synthetic painkillers won’t fix if his PAK didn’t do it on it’s own. 

But Dib staging a fight of food just to pour foriegn contaminants down Zim’s throat with a funnel was the exact situation that the Computer was imagining an inevitability. It would just be better for Zim to skip lunch, or not go to skool at all… but…. 

“REVEAL MY INTESTINES!!!!” Zim gasped, as if the very thought was insulting. 

Yeah. That’s what he figured.

Zim won’t stand for any of this. 

The Computer learned well from Parent Teacher Night. Once Zim has his mind set on something there’s little he can do to dissuade him. 

Zim grabbed the microphone that connected to the living room speakers.

“GIR! Meet me in the…… making… stuff….. Room….” 

“The Lab Workbench room?” The Computer asked.

“THE VERY SAME!!” 

The Computer sighed as the elevator from overhead sucked Zim up and transported him to the Workbench Room. The same Room where he had crafted the cybernetic eyes for Keef. Zim proudly exited the elevator with GIR. Who had somehow jumped into the elevator from supposedly nowhere mid-descent. The Computer thought better to question how GIR gets from place to place without him noticing anymore. 

“It’s time to show the human boy the meaning of…. Superior being…” Zim said, a little off with his usual quips today.

“Is your head feeling alright, master? I can inject some painkillers if-”

“MY HEAD IS FINE!” Zim shrieked. “And didn’t I mute you?!” 

He didn’t but…

“Yup.” The Computer simply said. 

“Oh… well… then… good.” 

“What we makin?” GIR asked as he cuddled his toy piggy. “GASP! WE GONNA MAKE BISCUITS?!” 

“No, GIR… We are to design a mech suit, impervious to foriegn contaminants to battle against the Dib with.” 

“.....Foriegn Contaminants… huh?” The Computer asked, not helping but notice his use of phrasing.

“But of course!” Zim exclaimed and then continued as if talking to GIR only “I can not be exposed to foriegn contaminants on this planet without experiencing extreme reactions it is highly dangerous you see!” 

“Ooooooohhh!” GIR nodded at Zim’s explanation.

……….You have got to be shitting me. 

“I need to avoid human food and other foreign contaminants. Basically anything that isn’t native to Irk. As I am unsure what biological reactions my shell would experience. So as to exercise that caution, I shall construct a suit, completely meat-proof, bean-proof and germs proof.” 

…..He. 

Can.

Not.

Be.

Serious.

Right.

Now. 

His exact words.

His exact phrasing.

So he DID remember!

He did… and he still…

HE STILL…. 

“Oooooh! I see! I see! Super smart!”

“I know isn’t it~?” Zim grinned. “GIR! Bring me my toolkit… COMPUTER! Bring me the spare materials I require to construct such a suit!” 

GIR squealed and ran to grab Zim’s toolkit from the workbench. There was a rumbling throughout the base, but no spare metal appeared on Zim’s work table.

“Uh…. Computer!” Zim snapped his fingers. “The materials!” 

The rumbling noise grew louder, and GIR looked up at the ceiling, holding the toolkit. 

“COMPUTER!!!!!” Zim sassily responded. 

There was a loud CRACK that sounded like a wire sparking loose and then….

“I DON’T WANT TO.” 

“..............EH?!” 

“You heard me.” 

“Eh?!?!” Come on, Computer! We have to hurry! If I don’t construct the suit then-”

“Get them yourself.” 

“COMPUTER!!!!” Zim growled. “I will unplug your brain if-”

“Fine, I don’t care.” 

“Ah… eh.. Wha?” Zim seemed confused. 

“Unplug me then! Rather be unplugged than serve a Master who WILLINGLY ingests foreign contaminants KNOWING what possible adverse effects they could cause.” 

Zim’s antenna twtiched and he bared his teeth. “I TOLD YOU! It was all for the purposes of my brilliant disguise! The Human believed I was a coward so I-”

“So you were PEER-PRESSURED into it?!?! I don’t know if that’s better or worse…..” 

The Computer’s voice sounded as if he was burying his face in his hands if he had any. Remembering with vivid clarity how Zim told him that night of PAK repair how he was tricked into thinking his comrades throwing his PAK around was a test of tenacity. 

“Better, obviously! Cause Zim is the Better-est at everything! Including the brilliant plan of making a mech suit that-”

“Why don’t you JUST not go to lunch?!” 

“AND ADMIT DEFEAT TO THE DIB?! NEVER!!!!” 

“Uuuuuuuuuughhhhh… That’s the problem!!! This isn’t even a contest, challenge, or a comrade in the academy! It’s a single Earth child! There is no benefit to winning such a pointless fight!” 

“See! That is where you are wrong!!!” Zim pointed at the ceiling. “I will prove to the Dib I am the superior species of this filthy dirt rock and show all the humans of how HUMAN I am. Now can you stop screwing around and get me those materials I asked for.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“EH?! ….What’s a fock?” 

“Build the damn suit yourself! Or get GIR to help you, since he’s obviously SOOOOOO much better at doing things than I am!” 

“That is true!” Zim stated thoughtfully as if it was fact. 

Computer muted his audio feedback instance in the work room. Leaving Zim alone with GIR. 

He could still hear Zim’s loud voice from a few rooms over. Telling GIR that they had a lot of work to do if they were to build a suit to his standards by morning. As if the conversation with the Computer never happened. 

The Computer half WISHED that Zim absorbed this conversation. Maybe then he could get unplugged and just not have to deal with his Master’s stupidity anymore. He’s not even going to bother stressing over the inevitable foodfight the next day. Might as well let Zim unplug him and get himself killed on a stupid exile planet…

_ “Novananna?”  _ Came one of the Vortians from their containment unit. This time, they were in an animal containment unit of a rabbit that Zim cross-fused with a deer for some unknown reason. 

_ “What is it….?”  _ The Computer replied back in Vortian, unable to hide the irritation in his voice. 

_ “We heard the base shake, are you okay?”  _

Thankfully, ever since the Vortians had unmuted him, communications with them have gone way better than they used to. They tended not to chew on things and escape as frequently as they used to. But it was still a hassle that they kept asking about his well-being. They often asked him for permission for every little thing these days.

_ Are you okay? _

_ Is it okay to eat this?  _

_ Does this hurt when I do this? _

_ What was that noise? _

_ Are we going to see Baben soon?  _

He had to blame GIR for that. Not long after the meat incident, when Zim was getting the treatment, and GIR was clean and clear from foriegn meat contaminants. He went down to see the Vortians and they were asking them a whole bunch of questions about their Novananna. For some reason, GIR was under the impression that he cried very often despite the fact that Zim and the Vortians haven’t heard anything. GIR also told them that when the base rumbles or when wires spark that he’s very  _ VERY _ angry and not to make him madder and that’s when he’s hissing. GIR even told them about that time he supposedly heard the Computer hissing in the space station, but then again, Zim hadn’t appeared to hear it at all. He’s fairly certain that GIR’s hearing is damaged just like the rest of him.

That didn’t stop the Vortian children from absorbing everything GIR told them about the Computer’s supposed ‘moodswings’ and they were always on the lookout for apparent ‘body language’ they could pick up with their little Vortian ears. So every single creek and beep and maintenance check was always followed by their annoying concern. He would appreciate it, if it wasn’t just factually wrong. But at least they’re far less destructive this way, he supposed.

_ “I’m fine.” _ The Computer sighed to them in Vortian. _ “Repairs just aren’t going as smoothly as I would like…”  _

Which wasn’t technically a lie. There was only so much he could do repairing himself. He was still feeling a lot of the aftereffects of the Baby Invasion. He had been able to repair the elevators, and a majority of the Vortians’ damage but he hadn’t been able to return his consciousness to the Voot Repair Bay. As such, Zim’s Voot remained broken and untouched. 

_ “What kind of Repairs?”  _ Zazpi asked curiously. 

_ “Just basic stuff….. I lost connection with the Voot Repair bay awhile ago, so it’s hard to determine what is broken and what needs immediate attention…”  _ The Computer responded without thinking, eager for a distraction and excuse not to talk to Zim right now. 

_ “Can we help!?”  _ Sabbath spoke up. 

_ “.....I… what?”  _

_ “Ah… umm..”  _ Sabbah fidgeted a little. They were definitely more soft spoken than their siblings.  _ “Well… we hurt you a lot when….”  _

_ “He said he doesn’t feel pain, Sabbah.” _ Seith interrupted. 

_ “I think he was lying….”  _ Zazpi murmured.  _ “I mean… we saw when…”  _ their voice trailed off.

The Computer audibly scoffed at that. 

_ “Irken Computers are not capable of intense emotional data that would cause tears or experience pain.”  _ The Computer explained,  _ “that entire line of thinking is illogical and perhaps overprojecting a sense of companionship towards me or my personality that my AI has constructed.”  _

The Vortians exchanged looks, and seemed unsure. 

_ “Maybe….”  _ Sabbah continued sounding like they didn’t really understand all of what the Computer said.  _ “But we still feel bad about breaking you, we wanta help fix it!”  _

_ “Hmmm…”  _ The Computer grunted in response. 

Disinterested with the idea of the little terrors running loose throughout an area of the base he didn’t have full access or control over yet. That just sounded like a bad idea. 

_ “No...R-really, we can fix it!” _ Sabbah insisted, seeming upset by the Computer’s lack of response. 

_ “They’re not gonna let us do anything!”  _ Seith bleated out in frustration.  _ “Hey! Bhatarraora!”  _

The Computer focused his attention on the Vortian with the loudest bleat compared to their siblings. Again… another word he had no translation for. Although, given the context and how their siblings gasped at them, he can infer he was referring to him and called him something very rude. 

_ “When can we go home and see Baben and Buhna! I’m bored and there’s nothing to do! I can’t chew on the playset anymore, I’m sick of eating metal, I can’t run around, and… and… and…” _ The little Vortian rammed his head into the containment unit in frustration. Which caused the Computer to gasp slightly. The Vortian child toppled backwards at the impact. Rubbing the prominent bruise on his head and starting to cry.  _ “I WANTA GO HOME! I WANTA GO HOME! I WANTA GO HOME!”  _

The little Vortain began crying, rubbing his tender head since his horns hadn’t grown in yet...his soft developing head just clashed with solid glass. Giving out loud screaming bleats as his siblings tried to comfort them. The Deer-Rabbit in the containment unit backed away from them. 

The Computer wished he could tell the Vortlings when they would be able to go home, but he wasn’t entirely sure about that himself. He never had the chance to bring up the topic to Zim of what he brought them here for in the first place. These were still extremely young Vortians who haven’t even learned basic Irken yet. 

“COMPUTER! WHAT IS THAT NOISE!” Zim shrieked, The Computer turned his attention towards Zim, who was clutching his head in his hands. Trying to cover his antenna. 

The Computer couldn’t help but notice the giant bulky robot head on the workbench that looked a lot like his human disguise. It looked…. Well… very terrible… then again… Zim’s disguise hadn’t raised suspicion so… whatever… he wants no part in his food-revenge scheme.

“The Vortians.” The Computer replied… 

“DON’T YELL AT ME! I THOUGHT I PUT YOU IN MUTE MODE!” Zim shrieked, then he whimpered, clutching his head in his hands, obviously feeling the aftereffects of the migraine in full now. GIR saw this as an opportunity to scream as loudly as he could at Zim, while Zim face planted onto his workbench, trying to dampen the sound.

The Computer sighed and began synthesizing a cold press for Zim’s head. 

Meanwhile at the same time….

_ “...Don’t ram into the containment unit…”  _ The Computer said calmly.  _ “It’s made out of a strong material only native to Vort that’s impossible to break through and ram-proff for any adult Vortian… Butting your underdeveloped mind against it wouldn’t do anything.”  _

Seith sniffled but didn’t stop screaming. The other two were starting to cry as well. 

The Computer let out an exasperated sigh. This was almost worse then when GIR began one of his crying fits. Combined with their crying and GIR’s screaming and Zim’s stupidity he was too tired to deal with this. 

A red beam of light passed over the Vortians bodies, and they gasped and froze at that. 

“Bio-scan shows normal… aside from a minor headache, your biological shell is undamaged. While constructing a pain reliever with what limited resources I have on your species would be feasible, it would be unwise, considering you're still in the developmental stages of your growth cycle.” The Computer murmured to himself, paying no mind what language he was speaking in. 

The little Vortians blinked tearfully as cable arms descended from the ceiling. 

_ “However a cold compress works best for dealing with immediate relief from an impact. That’s universal.”  _ The Computer lifted the chamber so he could press a cold pack to little Seith’s head, while moving the deer-rabbit experiment into another container all together. 

The Vortian flinched at the contact, but once the Computer held it there for a few moments, he accepted it and held it to their head, breathing a sigh of relief. The Computer had done the same for Zim, but Zim held onto the icepack, as well as his robotic arm, refusing to give it back. Well, that’s fine, it’s not like he was helping Zim much in the Workroom anyways. 

_ “Thank you…”  _ Seith grumbled after some nudges and whispers from his siblings. 

_ “You’re welcome.”  _ The Computer replied without thinking. At least someone on this stupid planet appreciated the work he does around here. Even if they are prisoners and infants. 

_ “You’re that bored, huh?…” _ The Computer asked them after some thought. 

The Vortians exchanged looks. 

_ “We already made friends with all the aliens here.” _ Zazpi murmured. 

_ “We don’t wanta hurt you anymore..” _ Sabbah whimpered. 

_ “There’s nothing to do…”  _ Seith grumbled, leaning to the icepack. 

The Computer considered it. While he didn’t like the idea of the little terrors running free thoughout the base, he didn’t want them crying over missing their parental units. He’d rather have them clueless and quiet rather than fearful and crying. He didn’t know how long he could do that, considering they’re so far away from home and getting restless now. While he certainly couldn’t send them home, he could at least provide a distraction. They certainly were skilled at tech, considering how quickly they were able to unmute his systems without an override from his incompitant Master. 

He already lost access to the Voot Repair bay… it’s not like they can break his consciousness MORE in that room. 

_ “Alright. I’ll let you help with repairs.” _ The Computer said, already sounding like he was regretting the choice.

_ “REALLY?!” _

_ “You mean it!” _

_ “Hooray!” _

The three started bouncing up and down and wiggling their little tails in excitement. Even Seith, headache apparently forgotten. 

_ “As long as you do exactly as I tell you.” _ The Computer told them, sternly. 

_ “Okay!” _

_ “We will, Novananna!” _

_ “We promise!”  _

The Computer couldn’t help but feel he was making a mistake as he eyed their mischievous smiles. But it's not like he had many other options.

So the rest of the night, the Vortian prisoners helped with repairs, a task that took way longer than he thought it would, considering their skill level. It was hard to instruct them on what to do without the repair bay door being open, and even then, they were still infants. They didn't have the infinite stamina that Zim had. They also didn't have a PAK that made sleep a leisurely activity at most, or was only needed when the Irken fell ill to a virus or injury that their PAK couldn't cure immediately.

So despite their speed at causing destruction and unmuting his systems, it wasn't too long before they fell asleep halfway through repairing one of the wires the Giganto Baby had ripped out.

The Computer sighed, but he let them be. They appeared snug and nuzzled together around his coils, and there was no danger of the wire short circuiting, since it wasn't plugged in. He'd rather leave them sleeping there than risk waking them up when he moved them. It's not like they were thinking of escaping. 

Zim meanwhile, had long since finished his Food-Proof suit. Which the Computer could only describe as…. Well… horrible. It honestly looked like one of the non-licensed toys that shady vendors give away at the circus. But of Zim. The Computer practically scoffed at the thought that any human child would want a plush of Zim.

The Computer watched with boredom as Zim began his usual speech to GIR about how Dib will not get the better of him this day, and how he's superior and blablablah. The Computer was so done with this stupid idea. He resisted the urge to tell Zim to be careful as he awkwardly stomped out the door.

It was about a few minutes to lunch time. The Computer already sent a fax to Miss Bitters when he saw that Zim was still working on his Mech about an hour left until skool. Also listed that he’s having a bad chronic pain day and might come home early. Cause it was a high probability no matter the result of their stupid food fight, Zim would come right back to the base either way. Either to repair himself, or to revel in his victory. 

Perhaps it was just Zim grating on his nerves, but he doubts Zim could die from this. And if he did, serves him right. Who the heck ingests foreign contaminants willingly, just to prove a point?! 

And While Dib is no average child by any means, he is still a child. While Dib has the means to be a serious threat if he took the right steps, a food fight at skool will at the very least just cause Zim to get sick again and back in the containment unit. That is, if Zim could escape the situation. 

The Computer didn’t have too much time to reflect on Zim’s stupid revenge scheme before Zim was back in the Base. Seeming to have completely forgotten his robotic mech, either that or it was destroyed. 

“VICTORY FOR ZIM!” Zim shouted as he kicked down the door. 

Zim began monologuing and recounting the events on how Dib was no match for his strength and that the Invasion will not be stopped by mere burritos. It seemed there was some sort of battle that was far more intense then the Computer was expecting. Zim also went on about how Dib’s automatic food launcher was an impressive feat of engineering, not as impressive as him of course, but he was a formidable enemy. If the Computer didn’t know any better, he would think that Zim’s insults towards the primitive Earthling were almost like backhanded compliments. The Computer listened with vague disinterest, but he couldn't help but notice something. 

“....Zim, where’s your disguise?” The Computer spoke up.

“...Eh?” 

“...Your disguise…. You’re not wearing it.”

“Eh? What are you talking about? The Mech suit was the disguise!” 

“........So…. you walked back to skool like that.”

“PSH! Don’t be silly~!” Zim waved his hand dismissively. 

“...Oh, that’s good, I-” 

“I flew the Voot carrier back to the base.” 

The Computer hesitated for a moment.

The Voot carrier was the clear glass flying unit meant to transport the Voot if it was incapable of flight. But if Zim was just flying around on the carrier on it’s own then… that had to look pretty conspicuous…… It’d probably look exactly like a “ufo” that the humans imagined aliens looked like from the countless fake accounts on believe or not shows like Mysterious Mysteries and in the movies. 

Zim probably looked so much like a little grey alien, that he was practically a stereotype of himself. The Computer had to admit it was comical to imagine. But the Computer hadn’t noticed Zim coming back in a VOOT carrier… come to think of it, he hadn’t noticed Zim approach until he kicked down the door… He thought he repaired his security systems a long while ago… how’d that happen? 

“...Why the Voot carrier?”

More importantly, how did Zim take the carrier without him noticing, or get back without him noticing? 

“Well, it’s not like your lazy butt is getting any faster at repairing the VOOT!” Zim scoffed. “I had to improvise somehow! So I took the VOOT carrier out of the repair bay! You didn’t seem to mind.”

Well, I guess that makes sense why he didn’t realize that Zim had taken it. But then again, he would have heard him or approach the VOOT repair bay….. Perhaps his systems were more damaged than he thought. Either that, or he just didn’t have enough power in reserve, and he was ignoring and pretty pissed off at Zim at the time. But it’s not like he completely ignored his Master 100% of the time ….he’s always keeping a close watch on whatever room Zim is in just in case he calls for him. 

“.....Wait…that didn’t answer my question and that makes no sense.” The Computer’s processor stalled, trying to comprehend Zim’s logic.

“Eh?”

“...Well, if you had the VOOT carrier with you…. Why didn’t you drive it to skool? Why did you just… walk all the way to class in the meat-proof suit.”

Zim blinked. 

“....why bother with the carrier at all? It only takes you fifteen to thirty minutes to walk back home. The distance is hardly an issue.” 

Zim fidgeted with his claws. 

“On top of that... where’s the VOOT carrier now?” 

“NOW THAT I HAVE AN ANSWER FOR!” Zim spoke up, ignoring all of the other obvious questions.

Zim’s PAK glowed, and the VOOT carrier extended out and folded out in the middle of the living room. Like some expanding raft that got shoved into a backpack. GIR clapped at the trick. 

Well…

Huh….

“.........Why’d you even put the VOOT carrier in your PAK to begin with?”

“OH MY GOD!” Zim groaned. “Can’t you just be HAPPY for me for once?!!?” 

The Computer groaned. He had no idea Zim’s train of logic in this one. That’s what he supposed he got for trying to apply logic to his defective mind. Whatever. At least Zim didn’t come home covered in meat, which was more or less all he could hope for. Which was kind of sad actually. 

“Congratulations. You did the bare minimum of not hurting yourself today.” The Computer sarcastically replied. 

Zim pouted at that. He half expected Zim wouldn’t pick up on his snark, but he had. 

“WELL I’M HAPPY FOR YOU!” GIR screamed.

“Thank you, GIR!” Zim grinned. “Soon, Dib will know true terror, he will never think to assault me with beans again and this world will be MINE!” Zim began launching into a victorious cackle as the Computer took the VOOT carrier up to the ceiling for storage.

Had he the eyes, the Computer would be rolling them. 

Even though Zim was completely free from foriegn contaminants, the same wouldn’t ring true for the next few days. It had to be the most stressful week of the Computer’s life and that was saying something considering how much he had gone through the moment he was activated. 

The Computer hadn’t thought much of it when Zim went to skool the next day. Hopefully he would stay the entire skoolday. He was getting sick of sending faxes to Miss Bitters, but he just had that function on standby just in case. The rest of the day proceeded as normal. The Vortians were having fun repairing the base with him, as long as there were many snack breaks and storytimes in between work time. It was slow moving, but it was better than nothing, and at this pace, the Computer could probably gain access and repair the rest of himself within the next few weeks. Which would have been faster had he tried to do it himself.

GIR’s food experiments and the Robo-Parents busting out happened at the bare minimum. Which was easily controlled and handled by distracting GIR with the TV, and telling the Robo-Parents to hide cause it’s Zim’s surprise birthday party, and once they eagerly went back into their storage units, he deactivated them. 

Zim didn’t even come home immediately after lunch and stayed the full day. So there was no issue with Dib attacking him with food again. No unsolicited calls from Miss Bitters. The only call he received that day was Video Outhouse, reminding them that Intestines of War was a week overdue. Which was quickly dismissed by the Computer telling them he’ll take care of it. He’ll be sure to remind Zim later. 

It was almost too peaceful then it should be. The Computer was just used to things going wrong on Zim’s end. So he was half expecting he’d arrive at the base with a horrible explosion or parts of the base falling into disrepair. He even took the opportunity to take some additional backup reserves from the neighbors, out of concern that his security system wasn’t as repaired as he thought it was, considering he hadn’t noticed Zim taking the VOOT carrier yesterday.

It was sometime past 3:30pm when his cameras outside spotted….. 

…..Something….?

Something heading toward the base. The Computer’s cameras focused on it. What was that thing? It looked like a giant flabby piece of green gum was waddling towards the base. He’s… never seen anything quite like it… Not in the Earth information he’s reviewed so far, nor any of the television shows GIR had subjected him to. He… he had a horrible feeling deep in his circuits, but it couldn’t be… could it? The moment the creature took a single step on the lawn, the Computer ran a basic identification scan.

**MASTER: IRKEN INVADER ZIM**

Wait…

WHAT?!

The Computer could only examine in stunned silence as Zim flopped and rolled his way into the base. Certainly it was Zim… but ….. 

“WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO YOU?!?!” The Computer said aloud. 

Zim squeaked and gasped, turning his head towards the ceiling. Several rolls of neck fat followed after him. His contacted eyes barely showing from underneath the rolls upon rolls of excess skin.

It was more appropriate that Zim was wearing an oversized flesh suit of his own body, rather than appearing as the tiny pseudo-Invader he came to know. If Zim lifted up his arms, the Computer was certain a simple gust of wind would carry him away. 

“I have successfully fooled the medical drones of this-”

“DECONTAMINATION CHAMBER! NOW!” 

The Computer didn’t wait for any of Zim’s excuses or impassioned speech on how his appearance was the result of some half-baked plan. Arms descended from the ceiling and before Zim registered what was happening, he was carried off screaming into the interior of the base with a single “SWHOOP” 

GIR blinked at where Zim had once been, then changed the channel with the remote, ignoring the situation entirely.

Zim screamed the entire way the Computer pulled him into the decontamination chamber. Struggling every step of the way. 

“COMPUTER! STOP! I COMMAND YOU! MY PAK WILL HEAL ME! MY PAK WILL-”

“How did you even MANAGE this?!?! Was it some foriegn contaminant?!?!” Several of the Computer’s optic units surrounded Zim, scanning him repeatedly, top to bottom and Zim squinted and tried to move away from the scans.

It was clear, Zim’s biological shell was stretched far past the limits of what an Irken should be. If Zim over-ate, there would be SOME weight gain… but it’s more as if Zim had gained a lot of weight and then immediately lost it in the span of a few hours. 

“NO! I didn’t eat any foriegn contaminants! Why would I?!” Zim asked as if insulted by the very notion. 

As the Computer analyzed the results of the scan, the horror of the situation was beginning to dawn on him during Zim’s explanation of events.

“I simply harvested my classmates organs!” 

**SQUEEDLY SPOOCH: LINING THIN, CLOSE TO RUPTURING.**

“The Bitters had me sent to the medical drone’s office, I was surely to be exposed for not having human organs!” 

**MULTIPLE FORIEGN CONTAMINANTS DETECTED.**

“I did what had to be done, and gathered up the MOST organs from the skool! I was more human than even the Dib!” 

**ACID OF UNKNOWN SPECIES CORRODING SPOOCH AND MULTIPLE ORGANS.**

“The skool was none the wiser of my act of brilliance!” 

**BIOLOGICAL SHELL: LINING THIN, WEAK TO INFECTION.**

“Especially since I gave all their organs back.” 

**SIGNS OF INFECTION AROUND LOWER NECK**

“Ugh… yes, DIB too.. It is unbecoming to fight a weakened enemy.” 

**HEARTRATE: 90 BPM. SLIGHTLY DELAYED AND LOWER THAN IRKEN INVADER ZIM’S AVERAGE OF 200-225 BPM.**

“The look on his face when I fooled the medical professional… Clearly I’m the superior species here!” 

**EMERGENCY MED BAY REPAIR HIGHLY RECOMMENDED.**

Zim was a ticking time bomb. His heart could stop, his spooch could burst, he could get an infection that could kill him slowly. His life was certainly in immediate danger. 

“Zim… how did you harvest the organs.” The Computer managed to get out, even though he already knew the answer.

“EH? Why I just zapped them out and teleported them into my own body and-”

And that was it. Again, before Zim knew what was happening. The Computer put Zim in the decontamination chamber, shoving in the excess skin with his free arms and locked him in there. 

“EH?! HEY! WHAT’S GOING ON?!?! COMPUTERRRRR!” Zim screamed out, sounding a bit panicked. “RELEASE ME! OBEY YOUR MASTER!” Zim began kicking his little feet, or the Computer thought it was his feet, against the glass container of the lid. 

“I’m sorry, Zim.” The Computer said. “You are literally going to die if-”

“FEH! My PAK can handle it when I die!” 

“Not when you’re a walking corroding pile of flesh! If the PAK restarts you, that electrical jolt could cause your spooch to burst!” 

“.....My PAK can handle-”

“OH MY GOD, ZIM!” 

“COMPUTER! YOU ARE TO RELEASE ME AT ONCE! I want no complaints or whining from you and your stupid attitude I-”

The Computer acted on his basic protocols. If his Irken master was severely injured, not in the right state of mind, and was in immediate need of treatment, the Computer could inflict more severe methods. Since Zim was never in the right state of mind, this would be alright without permission…. He thinks…. Well, that’s what he’s going with anyways… 

Zim gasped and stopped talking when the decontamination pod flooded with a sleeping gas that would put Zim under for the next few hours. The Computer has a LOT of work to undo the damage to his body that Zim had intentionally inflicted upon himself. No doubt the toxicity of the human organs he had zapped into his own body had a huge part to play in the grotesque ticking time bomb he currently was. 

“C..compoootur….” Zim slurred out, trying to bark out a command before he was out like a light. 

The Computer sighed and quickly got to work. It was far more efficient to have Zim under for the amount of procedures that he had to do. The whole affair took way longer than expected. He was glad he had the foresight to steal some power from the neighbors earlier that day, cause he was certain he’d end up making a mistake. First things first, Zim had to get his Spooch pumped and organs flushed of any traces of contaminants from human organs. This required massive intricate surgery that the Computer just didn’t want to risk leaving to Zim’s defective PAK. 

He had to hook his PAK up to backup life support while he was still attached and remove his organs and flush them from foriegn contaminants. This involved removing several of Zim’s organs as his flappy skin was pinned back and gutted open. The Computer using the delicate intricate claw like surgeon tools the decontamination chamber was equipped with. It looked more like an alien autopsy table similar in those human shows about aliens then an actual repair bay.

The irony of the situation was not lost on the Computer. The Computer knew Zim was stupid but he never imagined he’d have to do literal surgery on him. Zim’s biggest fear ended up happening by his own base’s Computer rather than the Dib human just due to pure negligence of what he was putting into his body.

The whole process took at least over several hours. During which, he received a call from Zim’s teacher not long after he had started the surgery. The Computer already prepared himself to apologize for Zim ‘hurting’ the other skoolkids and trying to think about how he could spin this so Zim was a poor misbehaved child with a skin condition in all this. But that hadn’t been what she had been calling about. 

It seems that when an ‘unloved child’ was found ill with a cybernetic cow implant, Zim saw fit to scream and gloat at the top of his lungs.

_ “FUCK YOU, DIB!”  _

Which had gotten Zim into a ton of trouble for making fun of a disabled child, and sending the skool several calls from concerned parents and Zim was sent home with a note and a written warning on his permanent warning. Miss Bitters was correct in guessing Zim hadn’t given Computer the note. And that the skoolboard would be forced to call child protective services if he doesn’t shape up his act. Something that would definitely get Zim discovered for sure.

It took the Computer several hasty apologies to Miss Bitters as he practically had to beg for his life while performing complex surgery on Zim at the same time. Even then the witch of a woman didn’t seem at all satisfied with his half-baked apologies. The Computer assured Miss Bitters that Zim wouldn’t say those words in Skool again. 

The Computer had only been expressing himself with human swears because there weren’t any irken equivalents that were strong enough. Fuck was just a multipurpose word that could be used to describe a variety of situations and feelings he was having about his work-station and life right now. In his recent memory he had only said it to Zim once, but that was his fault in repeating it to a parrot who has the memory capacity that rivaled GIR’s own brain at times. 

The Computer also explained to Miss Bitters that Zim was severely sick due to something he ate at skool and he might not show up for a few days because he was having emergency surgery done and faxed a doctor's note which seemed to satisfy her. For now at least. And she hung up, threatening that the Computer should adjust Zim’s ‘potty mouth’ while he’s at it. 

Zim fluttered in and out of consciousness near the end of the procedure. Still very tired from the drugs, and a massive amount of pain from the surgery. He couldn’t even scream, just eyed the arms holding his own organs with painful and bleary eyes. Scans showed that the drug was still coursing through his system, and Zim shouldn’t be able to feel any of this. The Computer wanted to save the anesthesia if he could. He knew Zim wouldn’t ask the Tallest for shipments, and he had a feeling if this is how Zim’s normal days at skool would go, he’d need a lot of it. 

It was well into the early hours of the morning when The Computer began pulling back and fixing Zim’s biological skin. Checking for any foriegn contaminants or abnormalities. The Computer eventually had to cut out a lot of excess skin. Leaving a few unnoticeable scars near his stomach, but he had no doubt that his PAK would heal them away since they were so tiny. Zim made a few small whimpers whenever the Computer tugged too hard, but other than that he was quiet and complacent. Looking exhausted and miserable. 

“Zim, can you hear me?” The Computer asked having scanned Zim over one more time, examining his biological shell and his PAK. Making sure that his PAK would pick up the slack after he unhooked the life support. 

Zim made no response, or effort to respond. He just blinked towards the ceiling with sad tired eyes. His antenna hung low on his head and didn’t even twitch. He looked very thin and hollow. 

It appeared as if his PAK was starting to heal him properly. The Computer unhooked the PAK from life support with an audible click, and Zim shuddered at the sensation. The Computer opened the decontamination chamber door, but Zim made no effort to move.

“Your PAK will take care of the rest, but your body is still very weak. Avoid any foreign contimi-...actually, no. It would be best not to eat anything for the next few days at all until the lining in your Spooch is fully repaired. The rest of your biological shell will fill out to your skin as your PAK begins repairing the damage from the surgery. I recommend taking a nap and getting as much sleep as you are physically able.” 

Again, Zim didn’t respond, or make any effort to move. He just appeared to stare off into space, completely drained of any life or energy. 

The Computer lifted him out of the decontamination chamber and Zim went limp in his robotic arms. The Computer wrapped Zim in a warm blanket, and brought him to the living room. 

“HI~!” GIR waved when Zim appeared up from the floor. “You have fun with House?!” GIR asked sweetly.

Again, no response from Zim. 

“.......Master?” 

“Master’s really tired right now, GIR.” The Computer replied, sounding as if he would pass out himself if he was able. “So I suggest letting him sleep.”

The Computer set Zim on the couch, and Zim’s eyes looked as if they were having difficulty staying open. 

GIR stared at Zim sitting next to him. 

“Awwww… Does Master need a hug?!” GIR stood to his little feet, and looked like he was going to divebomb on top of him. 

Fortunately, the Computer caught GIR midair before that could come to pass. 

“GIR!” The Computer barked out in a similar tone Zim used when he was ordering GIR around. “You need to be gentle with Zim, okay? He’s not feeling the best….”

Any other time, he wouldn’t mind GIR crashing on top of Zim in a bone crushing hug, but the last thing he needed was that little bot rupturing Zim’s spooch and undoing all his hard work. 

“Oh…” GIR blinked up at the ceiling, looking a bit disappointed. 

Zim still wasn’t responsive but his fluttering bleary eyes were telling the Computer he was refusing to sleep despite the lingering effects of anesthesia and exhaustion from surgery.

“...Can we cuddle?” 

“I...what?” 

“We can cuddle!” GIR reinforced. “Like the babies! And then you sing us to sleep! And I can pets Master!” 

At the mention of the very idea of GIR petting him, Zim let out a low hiss. 

“.......Or YOU can pets Master. Yous better at dat anyways.” 

Zim growled but it was so half-hearted, as if he was too tired to growl properly. . 

The Computer had no idea how GIR knew that he had pet Zim’s antenna to get him to fall asleep before, or of the singing, but he could just assume that GIR had saw him treating Zim a few days ago in the decontamination bath when the Runt was taking up a majority of his attention. 

While GIR’s idea was simply ludicrous, previous data suggested it was a very easy way to get Zim to fall asleep. It had been proven to work before. 

“Be gentle with Zim, GIR.” The Computer set GIR gently down on the couch as if to emphasise the point to the broken robot. 

“I wills hold him likea beezchurger!” GIR said with conviction and wrapped his arms around Zim gently in a hug as he nuzzled into him.

Zim let out a low hiss, but was too exhausted to move or even yell at GIR. He was quickly silenced by the Computer massaging Zim’s antenna. Zim flinched but eyes fluttered closed at the sensation shortly. The Computer hadn’t bothered with antenna massages to calm Zim down throughout the surgery since he was already under anesthetics. It was completely unnecessary at the time. He hated the thought that he had to rub Zim’s antenna any time he wanted the runt to sleep, but it is what it is, he supposed. A few synthetic hums began to fill the base as he had before, and Zim was sleeping and purring in a manner of seconds. GIR entering sleep mode shortly after Zim. 

The Computer made sure the rest of the base stayed as quiet and dark as possible during the day. Even postponing work on the repair bay in case the noise of repairs had woken him up. He was able to placate the Vortian prisoners by telling them a bunch of stories he struggled to make up, their idea, not his. 

Zim had already had a few days lined up from the doctor’s note he had given Miss Bitters. He could tell the crone was getting tired of Zim’s excused absences, but apparently the skoolboard considered it descrimination if he was expelled due to his skin condition and health issues. 

The Computer collected Zim’s missing skoolwork, and set it on a small table in front of Zim in case he woke up. It was better than Zim running off and jumping to his feet and working on some plan that was stupid and took too much of his energy. Zim absentmindedly completed the homework in the small moments of wakefulness when he saw it in front of him, before lying back down when his spooch hurt too much. The Computer put a synthetic heating pad against it, which Zim pressed to his stomach and was out again in a few moments. 

The Computer hated this was what his life was relegated to or why Skool had mattered so much to Zim at all. But it was better than thinking about any of his other problems at the moment. He really just was a glorified babysitter, wasn’t he? 

A majority of Wednesday was simply Zim sleeping and recovering. The Computer scanned Zim every few hours to make sure that his PAK was repairing him properly. Aside from the spooch pain and needing to rub his antenna every so often when Zim was fighting the biological need to sleep, It was the first quiet day that the Computer had in a long while. 

He should have known it wouldn’t have lasted. By the time Thursday morning came around, Zim’s biological shell had filled out and he looked very healthy. Thanks to being very strict about a bed-rest day, his Master was full of his usual Zim pep and activeness that made the Computer want to unplug his brain. 

Zim was proudly examining himself in his Invader uniform. Which the Computer had shrunk, cleaned and pressed while he was asleep so it wasn’t as stretched out. He had the technology to make it look as clean and bright and perfectly fit as the day he had gotten it. 

“Zim, I highly advise going to skool. While you might feel alright now, your skin is extremely thin and still damaged. I just… it would be a terrible idea to even set foot outside.”

Zim frowned and pouted. “Blablabla… FOCK YOU!” Zim told his Computer. 

Oh.. right… he hasn’t bothered to… 

“Master, please don’t use that word.” 

“EH? But you’ve said it!” 

Him and his stupid mouth. The only times he’s not observing his master are the times when he’s cussing them out. 

“You must have misheard me.” The Computer told a white lie. “Because those are bad words.”

“Bad words? ……….Are they EVIL words?” Zim grinned. 

The Computer realized his mistake. He had to dissuade Zim from ever using those words in class again. He doesn’t want Miss Bitters to slither onto his doorstep to complain of his ‘horrible parenting skills’ in person. 

“They appear to hold such power over the human population indeed…. For if I control those words… then I control the world and the entire Empire will have the Earth under my claws!” Zim cackled maniacally at the thought. 

“Oh no, they aren’t evil words.” The Computer stammered to correct himself. He was always terrible with making up false info on the fly. “They’re bad in that…..” 

The Computer struggled to think of something. He vaguely noticed a commercial for Zit-cream GIR was watching that had the acne explode off the greasy teen’s face. 

“If you say those words too many times you will explode.”

Wow. That was stupid… there’s no way Zim would-

“EXPLODE?! Really?!” Zim gasped. 

Wait… why did the Computer keep forgetting Zim was an idiot at times… he could work with this. 

“Oh no! Oh no! Master!” The Computer gasped, pretending to be alarmed. 

“Ah?! Wh-what? What?!” 

“You said the word, didn’t you! You just said it!” The Computer gasped.

Zim’s eyes widened and he gasped.

“Ah… wait… no… I didn’t mean to-”

“Quick! How many times have you said it!” 

“Eeep! Ah… I.. I don’t know… umm.. Like… once asking you… once at skool… and uh… just now?” Zim counted on his little claws, recalling it.

“Oh no! OH NO! That’s three times! This is bad, this is really, really bad?!” 

“EH? Three times?! Why?! WHAT HAPPENS AFTER THREE?! TELL ME!”

“If you say that word one more time…. YOU WILL EXPLODE!” The Computer, for emphasis, brought up a fake visual he recreated for Zim, of a little diagram of a disguised Zim exploding.

“AHHH! NO! NO! WHAT CAN I DOOO! ZIM CAN NOT EXPLODE!!! I MUST CONQUER THIS PLANET! MAKE IT NOT HAPPEN! GIVE ME SOLUTIONS!” 

“That’s the power of CURSE words.” The Computer said, resisting the urge to laugh.

“What a terrible curse…..” Zim shivered in awe. 

GIR’s eyes got wide hearing this and blurted out repeatedly. “FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!” 

“AHHHH! NO GIR! NOOOOO YOU’RE GOING TO EXPLODDDEEE!” Zim ran and ducked behind the bookshelf, putting as much distance between him and the robot as possible. 

“It only works on organic or mostly organic lifeforms. I can say it, remember.” 

“Oh…” Zim said plainly and stood up. “Well, how can I reverse the curse on my own?!” Zim asked the Computer, completely ignoring GIR as the little robot kept repeating the word over and over and over again in an effort to get himself to explode. Turning from excited to frustrated in a manner of seconds. 

“Unfortunately, there is no cure, you’re just going to have to go your whole life without ever saying that disgusting human curse word again.” 

“I had no idea the humans had such powerful words! No wonder everyone was so shocked when I said it in skool!” 

“Yeah…. That’s the reason….” The Computer replied sarcastically. 

“Ah! Speaking of skool, I better get going-”

“Ah! Wait Zim!” The Computer stammered out.

The Computer was grateful that Zim stopped to wait for once. 

“You’ve been out of commission for a long time…”

Only a day.

“Don’t you want to contact the prisoner you have on Vort?”

Cause the Vortlings are getting more restless about their parental unit lately. 

“Or go over some of the animal experiments…” 

A majority of which have died just due to not taking to the cybernetic implants, or the Vortian tinkering with them. 

“The experiments?!” Zim seemed to perk at that.

“...Ah, yeah… there’s a whole lot of animals in here you haven’t even got to… I mean… what are the chickens for?”

“THE CHICKENS! I COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN! COMPUTER, CANCEL SKOOL! I MUST GO LAUNCH THE CHICKENS!” 

“....Wait… what… that’s not how it wor-... ugh.. Okay Master.” The Computer relinquished easily. 

Having Zim spend at least one more day at home was better than the alternative of Zim hiving up the moment he breathed the toxic Earth air filled with pollutants. Which was a high possibility considering how immune compromised he is right now after his surgery.

Apparently, the Chicken Experiment had to do with Zim testing the distance a Chicken could fly. Since he heard in class that they were poor flyers or couldn’t fly at all. When Zim posed the question to a classmate, 

_ “Why would the chicken cross the road? Can they not fly?” _

Apparently Zim misinterpreted a joke that he had overheard in class during free period. When a classmate that had claimed to live on a farm outside the city had explained to Zim that chickens don’t really fly and was missing the point of the joke. Zim got upset and ended up adamantly defending the chicken. Zim has seen the other foreign organics that the humans refer to as birds. In real life, and on television, and all birds fly. Zim also didn’t understand the joke at all.

_ “WHAT IS ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ROAD?! WHY DOES THE CHICKEN WANT TO GET THERE?! WHAT PURPOSE DOES IT SERVE?! ARE THEIR WEAPONS TO ENSLAVE THE HUMAN RACE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ROAD?! IS THE CHICKEN A MASTER OF PSYCHOLOGICAL MANIPULATION?! TELL ME!!!”  _

Apparently, the joke of the Chicken crossing the road could be taken two ways. That the teller of the joke is attempting to pose a riddle, and the listener is meant to overthink what the answer could be, while the answer is blatantly obvious and simple. The other angle is that the “other side” is an analogy of what humans believe happens to them when they die. So the chicken was crossing the road to get killed and die. A rather morbid outlook, which was the explanation that Miss Bitters posed to the class once she had listened into the chicken debate. 

The Computer heard this all from second-hand accounts of Zim, rambling to himself as he was setting up the experiment. He was surprised he even remembered a conversation, but Zim’s memory was often selective with what he could remember and what he couldn’t. 

It wasn’t long before Zim fell into his intense focus mode as he often did when something took his complete and utter attention. He kept launching the Chickens into space to see how far they could “fly” or if they could reach the “otherside”. The Computer hated to point out that this was a completely inaccurate way of measuring how far a chicken could fly. He’s basically just launching chickens into space and killing them. Well, whatever kept the little idiot quiet and inside the base he supposed. He wasn’t in the mood to argue the flaws in Zim’s logic. It would just agitate Zim and rupture his spooch. 

It was sometime around 6:30am when the Computer caught something in the corner of his security cameras outside. Or at least… he thought he saw something….. What was it that… He caught a glimpse of movement again. The gnome cameras swiveling, but unable to turn their heads directly to view who was on the front lawn. It was as if whoever was there was making movements so they would just be behind his field of vision at all times.

Someone was definitely there. Even though he didn’t see them when he stopped moving his cameras. He heard the distinct sound of the scribbling of a pen and some muttering that was distinctly closeby. 

**“SECURITY BREACH, UNKNOWN INTRUDER!”** The Computer sounded the alarm without a second thought. Having a strong possibility of who it was, having dealt with the little trenchcoat boy attempting to infiltrate the base at least twice now. 

Zim paused in his actions, turning towards the alarm and grunted in annoyance. Putting on his disguise as he went to the upper part of the base, leaving the last of the chickens to live for another day. 

Zim came above and opened the door, looking around for the sign of the intruder. The Computer was wondering if he might have given a false alarm too early. As his camera detected no signs of anything being there. But Zim definitely had his gaze focused on… something… Zim did a slow turn around and then a double take… as if playing a children’s game of red light, green light with an intruder the Computer couldn’t get a clear look at. 

Zim turned around slowly one final time, staring into the reflection of the gnome’s eye. The moment Zim was turned around, the Computer saw it. An awkward bulky ceramic squirrel disguise that could hide a human of Zim’s size appeared into his point of view. 

Zim spun around and pointed at the direction. 

“GNOMES! Capture the squirrel!!!!”

With direct command from his Master, the Computer was able to seize control of the robotic gnomes. They spun their heads, locking on the intruder directly, raising it up (much to the nasally protests of Dib) and smashed the squirrel on the sidewalk pavement. Revealing the Dib boy to be inside. The squirrel tail stuck on his behind, making him look like an angry trenchcoat wearing snail then the squirrel he was disguised as.

“HA! Nice try, Squirrel-Dib! I laugh at your pitiful attempts at spying! Here I go~” Zim then began to launch into a small fit of maniacal laughter before Dib interrupted his gloating. 

“Go on, laugh!” Dib got to his feet, and the squirrel tail fell off his behind and shattered. “But one day, you’ll be sitting in your house feeling all safe and secure, and then you’ll look over, and I’ll be there! Doin’… STUFF!” 

“STUFF?!? In my home!?!?! NEVER!!! ” Zim gasped as if the very idea was ludicrous. 

The Computer had wondered what happened between these two during skool and interactions he wasn’t there for. There was definitely a different energy and history then he was used to compared to the last time Dib and Zim were fighting on his doorstep. Zim seemed certainly less afraid of Dib then he had been the first day of Skool. It was almost as if Zim was taking Dib’s vague threats as challenges and the child was just as equally excited to be challenged with whatever Zim could give him.

“You’d have to find some kind of flaw in my security net!” Zim began marching right up to Dib, getting in his face as he explained it to him as if he was beneath him. “Since that could never possibly happen, you’d have to do your STUFF elsewhere!” 

Zim left to turn around, but then he stopped, turning back to face the Dib. 

“You haven’t discovered some kind of flaw have you?” Zim asked, hesitation in his voice obvious that the Computer could pinpoint immediately. 

….There… was some kind of flaw….

Dib only brushed himself off. “Let’s just say your home defenses could use some tightening.” Dib said before rushing off to catch the skoolbus at the end of the cul-de-sac. 

“YOU’RE LYING!” Zim shouted after him as Dib took off. 

The Computer realized that Dib might be right…..

There certainly must be a blindspot somewhere……. How else would Zim be able to take the VOOT carrier without him noticing, or even fly back to the base without him spotting it. Not to mention, the Squirrel-Dib was just outside of his line of vision a majority of the time. Even though it was in a fairly obvious spot when Zim had pointed him out. 

There had to be a blindspot somewhere he just wasn’t seeing…. It was only the logical explanation considering how easily Dib managed his way around his defenses. 

As Zim continued shouting at Dib, long after he was out of hearing range, a rather peculiar looking car came to the front of the house. Walking right past Zim, as he turned his attention to screaming at the greasy-faced teen. 

HUMAN: FOOD SERVICE DRONE

PRODUCTS: PIZZA

THREAT LEVEL: NONE, APPROVED CLEARANCE. 

INTELLIGENCE LEVEL: COULD CARE LESS

The Computer wondered how a food-service human had approved clearance to the base when neither he nor his Master approved it. The Pizza drone handed the pizza he was carrying to GIR who answered the door without his disguise. The food service human seemed to not even notice or care.

That’s when the Computer vaguely remembered GIR watching a commercial for a fast-food establishment called Bloaty’s Pizza Hog. They now changed their delivery hours to 24 hours a day where you could order “all da pizza all th’ time” The Horrible grotesque pig mascot’s words, not his. The Computer wasn’t paying too much close attention to GIR’s demands for wanting to try pizza, since he had never had it before, and just left him to his own devices. Which he really shouldn’t have, cause GIR had picked up the phone, dialed the 1800 number that the commercial was advertising, and paid for the Pizza using…. The Computer’s own credit card.

The Computer was forced to get a credit card during the first few days of arriving on the planet. It was just a security measure so he was able to register an official state of address. Cause he had the IRS calling within the first few days of his activation, just because the neighbors didn’t remember a house ever being there before that night. Getting a credit card was just a security measure so that he would be able to secure a phone landline, address and prove to the government that a human occupied this building. 

He knew this was a temporary solution however. He can’t pay the credit card bill with counterfeit money. Zim would get discovered by the US government in no time. He would need to find some way of securing a stable source of money in the immediate future before the bill was due. 

Especially since GIR had taken to memorizing the credit card number for the purpose of buying and ordering whatever food he saw on TV that he wanted to try. That’s NOT what he had gotten a human credit card for. But he knew there was little to do about it, and he didn’t want to bother with the phone calls and hassle it would take to change the number. Especially when GIR would probably memorize the new number. GIR had photographic memory for selective things. The “magic numbers'' that let him get whatever food he wanted for “Free” was definitely one of them. 

Zim lectured GIR about inviting humans over to their home. The Computer thought about lecturing GIR for answering the door out of disguise or using his credit card…. But he figured it’d be no use. GIR was going to do either of those things no matter what he said. Maybe he could tell Zim to lecture GIR, since the bot listened to his Master more frequently then the Invader’s Computer, but then again that was on a case by case basis. 

As Zim was contemplating what possible flaw his security systems had, GIR ripped open the Pizza box and shoveled the whole thing into his mouth. Getting grease all over his body and couch. While the Compuer couldn’t smell himself, the way Zim reacted to GIR’s actions made the whole affair positively revolting. 

Zim immediately repressed the urge to gag. It looked as if Zim would chuck up the nonexistent contents of his Spooch. Which wouldn’t be good after his surgery. Even if Zim had recovered physically, it would be best not to overexert himself. The Computer ran a quick scan over the Pizza. He would hate it if GIR brought a foreign contaminant into this house, given Zim’s condition. 

There were traces of meat in the sauce and pizza itself. But the cheese and grease content was very similar to what Irkens made their nachos with. The cheese or crust wouldn’t be all that toxic to Zim… but… it seemed to be more potent, when ingested could produce a variety of side effects that required more observational data to determine. The level of salty snack content was higher that just wasn’t present in Irken cheese. Certainly not the healthiest thing to be around Zim, but he clearly won’t die from it if he ate it. But running on an empty stomach, it was best for Zim to avoid it all together. 

“GUH! That smell..all…. That… CHEESE!” 

Zim didn’t seem to like it at all, even if it was indeed edible for his species. Judging from the mascot and how Bloaty’s advertised their pizza, the Computer had to guess it wasn’t the highest quality of cheese that there was to offer on this planet. Plus the amount of grease that just seemed unhealthy enough to kill a human, period. 

“I like it.” GIR grinned, completely dripping with grease by this point. 

“It’s sickening….” Zim flinched, holding his spooch. “And your… lippy… smacky… noises… aren’t helping…” Zim turned away from GIR, resisting the urge to vomit up the contents of a very empty spooch. 

The Computer was preparing a bucket and a few medications that would help Zim with the nausea. There are two things the Computer didn’t want… Zim throwing up all over his floor, and Zim rupturing the delicate lining of his sensitive Squeedly Spooch.

GIR finished off his pizza, then turned to Zim. Looking sad for a few moments before jumping onto Zim in a tackling hug.

  
“I LIKE YOU TOO!” GIR nuzzled all over his master, covering him in the very grease Zim was gagging about. Zim screamed and ran around the base, crashing into the television, bookshelf and other furniture attempting to get GIR off him. Making the living room even more of a mess then the Computer had expected. The Computer inwardly flinched at every single hit. Even if Zim had fully recovered and appeared fine he was really worried about his organs bursting open. Perhaps he was just being paranoid… but it’s just his type of luck that it would happen. Not to mention… the amount of grease GIR was slathering his sensitive skin with. 

Zim was absolutely dripping with grease which worried the Computer. Before he could take a moment to intervene, The Robo-Dad came out of storage, smacking Zim to the ground, and wedging GIR off of his head. Before the Robo-Father could initiate it’s basic protocols to “tend” to it’s “son” the Computer promptly sent a command for it to return to storage. Which thankfully, it followed. He didn’t need two stupid Robots aggressively hugging Zim at the moment. 

Computer ran a quick scan, aside from Zim covered in grease, he appeared unharmed. Zim scrambled to his feet and was practically crying at the ‘filth’ he was covered in.

“GIR! Get me the cleansing chalk! Quickly!” 

GIR came to Zim with irken cleansing chalk, a towel and mirror, all of which he was storing in his head. Zim began to rub himself vigorously with the cleansing chalk in a panic, trying to get the horrible sensation of the grease off from him. The Computer couldn’t help noticing that the grease wasn’t coming off of Zim… in fact… he seemed to be getting greaser… Zim’s eyes widened, as if he realized something, and he unfurled a greasy strip of bacon.

Bacon?! What?! Why was Zim not a sizzling mess?!?

“WHY WAS THERE BACON IN THE SOAP!?!?!” Zim yelled at GIR.

“I made it mayself!” GIR sassily replied, nuzzling down for a nap inside the pizza box.

The Computer vaguely recalled GIR inviting a pig over a few weeks ago and then putting it in a blender. He had no idea why the meat didn’t burn Zim, but that bacon and Zim were covered in so much grease, the meat hardly touched his skin. 

Zim’s eye twitched, and threw the bacon aggressively to the floor. Zim examined himself in the mirror, and then his eyes widened. He began poking a blemish that was protruding on his cheek. A blemish? Was it an infection due to the grease content?

The Computer extended down a towel for Zim to wipe the grease off properly, which Zim gladly took and rubbed off the grease. As he did, the Computer ran a diagnostics scan without his Master noticing. 

Zim examined himself in the mirror again. The blemish was still there. He squinted an eye at himself and began to poke at it. 

“Master, please don’t poke it.” 

“I’m not!” Zim stopped for a total of 0000.5 seconds before he began poking it again. 

“Master, I am serious. Your skin lining is very weak at the moment and prone to infection… Irkens shouldn’t get blemishes like this. I recommend you not poke it.” 

“....Right…. Got it……” Zim said as he continued to poke at it.

“Zim, please!” The Computer exasperatedly sighed. 

“I’m not touching it!” Zim said while he was touching it.

“Zim….” The Computer groaned and extended down his robotic arms to stop him from poking it.

Zim squeaked and backed away from the robotic arms, extending his PAK legs and scampering to the couch.

“I AM NOT GOING THROUGH ANY MORE OF YOUR TREATMENTS!” Zim yelled as he dug his claws into the couch like it was preventing the Computer from picking him up. A hiss coming out of his throat as he did so. 

“Alright….” The Computer sighed and extended his arms back into the ceiling. It’s not like he could open the floor, and tilt the couch so Zim fell down the elevator shaft. Which he totally could, by the way.

Zim let go of the couch and sat down. He took the mirror in his hands again and began poking at the blemish again.

“What even is that….” Zim squinted at his own reflection. 

“Weeellll….” the Computer began as he analysed the results from his scan. “I don’t think it’s an infection….otherwise your body readings would alert me that you’re in danger. And medical bay protocol would be activated.”

Zim shivered at that. “I HATE medbay protocol…” Zim grumbled under his breath. 

“Yeeeeaahhh… sorry about that…” The Computer said half heartedly as he continued sorting out Zim’s biometric readings compared to his current scan and cross referencing data. 

Which caused his Master to scoff at his Computer’s half-assed apology. 

Once the Computer could narrow down the blemish, he was certain it wasn’t toxic or life threatening… but he needed more information. He accessed the Irken records to see if any records of blemishes like Zim existed. It could be the starting sign of a larger problem. Or something that could evolve into a bigger problem. Knowing his luck, it was probably the case. 

“What’s taking you so long to analyze this…. THING?” Zim pouted, still poking at the blemish.

“Stop touching it, I’m sure that’ll make it worse.” The Computer replied exasperated. “Look, Irkens having blemishes such as those on their skin is rare. The PAK tends to heal all scars and impurities on the face. Craters, moles, freckles and blemishes such as those is typically the mark of a De-” 

Zim’s eyes narrowed dangerously. 

The Computer paused. 

Did Zim know he was a defective….?

The Computer had his suspicions based on previous observational data but he rather not test the waters of that hypothesis at the moment. 

“Well… not always…only sometimes… the only other reason an Irken would break out would be... unless there’s a… planetary alignment coming in…..” The Computer’s voice faded as a Memory rollback played back in his head.

_ "See, I did it GIR! The Earth is back where it rightfully belongs… to be conquered by ZIIIIIMMMM! And the humans don't suspect a thing!" _

_ "Well, there is a possibility that we lost a single Earth year on the Calendar, daylight savings time might have started early and there's a possibility of a planetary alignment happening later this year….” _

_ END MEMORY ROLLBACK _

The Planetary alignment! Of course. 

The Computer wished he had access to the telescope to confirm his suspicions, but unfortunately it was damaged beyond repair and served as the Vortain prisoner’s primary food source. 

“Master, I believe I know what that blemish is. It might be-”

“YOU GOT A PIMPLE!” GIR shrieked, having woken up from his pizza box nap. 

“A pimple?!” Zim asked, continuing to poke at the blemish.

“Just like on TV!” GIR exclaimed cheerfully and turned on the television. Showing Zim a commercial for acne cream that was playing earlier that day. 

The Computer scoffed. While human pimples were a result of being exposed to greasy contaminants, either by food, or refusing to keep up with basic cleanliness, it tended to be a typical everyday problem for children in Zim’s class or older. Sometimes adults had acne problems but…. 

No, what Zim had wasn’t something as simple or as humanly common as acne… It was impossible for Irkens to get acne after all… A lot of Irken food that wasn’t sugar based had a lot of grease in it. It was common that most Irken desserts were salty and greasy when their primary food intake was sugar. Even though a majority of the galaxy saw that as backwards, so much so that Foodcourtia served their deserts as entrees and their primary cuisine as deserts for the tourists. It just attracted a wider variety of customers that way. 

Despite Zim’s gagging reaction towards the grease, it wasn’t harmful to him in the slightest, since human grease contained a lot of the same properties as Iken grease, it was just far more potent on Earth. It was highly unlikely Zim was experiencing an acne breakout.

No, what Zim was experiencing was the beginning stages of a MOLT. Irken molts tended to happen once every few hundred or so years. Typically signifying that an Irken had gone through their smeethood and were ready to be an adult. Well, ‘adult’ in the basest sense of the word. Much like how humans considered a thirteen year old an adult in some cultures. Irken molts were typically triggered if the planets aligned in a very specific way. Quite specifically, the very same way that the planets were positioned at the day of their activation. 

The Computer scrambled to search through Zim’s activation data from his PAK scan. If he could figure out the alignment of the planets then, and compare it towards the observational data from the satellite, he would be able to confirm his hypothesis.

Considering what had happened recently, everything seemed to add up. Zim’s over-sensitivity towards foriegn contaminants. The fragility of his skin and the elasticity of it… considering Zim’s PAK hadn’t bothered to return his poor stretched out skin to its previous state without some surgery… the Computer was starting to see why….and the blemish was of the beginning signs of the molt. Zim ingesting so many foreign contaminants when his body was undergoing a massive change was a near-guarantee that Zim’s molt will be painful and not a pleasant experience.

Some Irkens hardly felt the molt at all, others would go through a hideous, grotesque and painful experience. It can sometimes last a minute or a few hours depending on the Irken. With Zim, there would be absolutely no way to tell how long the molt will last, or how fast it will come upon him….

Until he sorts through the disorganized mess that is his PAK scan….. He just had to ignore all the errors and find Zim’s activation day. Which was a bit difficult for the Computer to do, since his primary directive was screaming at him to plug Zim into his hud and repair those errors immediately. Something the Computer knew would take a schmillion years to do, and was a rather pointless endeavour cause Zim will fight him every step of the way and absolutely hate it. 

While the Computer was trying to locate Zim’s activation data, he realized he made a major mistake….

He had gotten distracted.

Zim was absolutely absorbing what was told to him by the human commercial. Gasping in fear and trepidation, not relinquishing in poking the early stages of his molt. 

“I must obtain Acneblast!” Zim gasped in fear as he continued to poke at his blemish. 

Right! How could he be so stupid…. Zim was highly susceptible to visual aides and advertising propaganda! That’s how he ended up purchasing the micro-goggles after all. The discarded goggles stayed permanently wedged in the Computers wires, having no desire to bring them to Zim again.

The Computer was sure that no matter what the Computer told his Master at this point, Zim would absolutely not listen to him. Zim had already been given the answer he seeked from human television. No chance he’d listen to his Irken Computer that was literally programmed to seek answers towards Zim’s queries of abnormalities on foriegn planets and assist in medical assistance should the PAK be damaged or not repaired quickly enough.

WHY WOULD ZIM BELIEVE HIM AFTER ALL… WHAT DOES HE KNOW?!? HE’S JUST A STUPID COMPUTER AFTERALL!!!! 

Before the Computer could even begin to attempt to interject that a pimple was not what Zim was experiencing, Zim attempted to apply some Acneblast on his face...with the cap on. Probably for the best. That cream probably had some foriegn contaminant in it. The Computer suspected GIR also got with his credit card. 

The molt absorbed the entire tube and grew in size. The Computer inwardly cringed. That was very typical behavior of a molt. However gross it was. During the first stages, the molt seeks to expand by breaking the skin and spreading the rash. Before that happened, it needed to get as big as possible. Zim was doing nothing to help himself make this a painless experience. His stupid defective Master is going to make this as painful as possible, he knows it. That’s just how Zim works.

He’s certain that it’s a molt, but until he sorted through Zim’s PAK data he had no way of confirming his hypothesis entirely.

“That made it worse! GIR how could you!” Zim gasped, sounding honestly hurt and betrayed. 

Zim glanced around, GIR completely missing from the living room. “GIR?” Zim hesitantly called for him. 

The Computer was used to GIR always vanishing from his line of sight… so he didn’t think too much on it… until he saw GIR swimming around in Zim’s blemish, expanding it even more. The Computer fought the urge to scream at them both, but thankfully, Zim had yelled and shooed GIR out of his molt.

The protrusion looked even more prominent and grotesque, and the Computer could see the molting fluid threatening to burst already. 

Of course…

Worst case scenario.

Always.

That was his life. 

**PAK ACTIVATION DATA FOUND**

Finally….. 

**IRKEN *********INVADER********* SMEET ZIM**

Well, obviously he wasn’t coded as an Invader when he was a smeet, despite what Computer’s data told him. Obviously one of Zim’s coding tampering things. 

**FIRST WORDS UPON ACTIVATION: -MEMORY ROLLBACK LOCKED- PHYSICAL CONNECTION TO IRKEN MASTER REQUIRED-**

Well that was odd…. It must be that Zim kept that information very closely guarded in his PAK and his organic brain. Probably something that outed him as defective to anyone reading a scan of his PAK data.

**ACTIVATION DATA BASED ON CURRENT PLANETARY CALENDAR SYSTEM: MARCH 30th. APPROXIMATELY ONE HUNDRED AND A HALF IRKEN ROTATIONS**

One…. ONE HUNDRED?!?! He knew Zim was the runt of the bunch, and he was far younger than the rest of his peers… but the Computer didn’t expect him to be so….. Well… THAT young. Most Invaders in the same class as Zim were two hundred rotations, with the exception of Skoodge, which was only a few rotations from Zim. Every other peer of Zim’s was about 40 to 60 rotations older and had already experienced their molt. Being a few weeks late in the gestation tube really does make all the difference. Irken weeks were vastly different than human weeks afterall. 

**PLANETARY ALIGNMENT DATA: DISPLAYING CHART NOW**

The Computer processed the data he received. All the while Zim was commanding GIR with “his blemish’s hypnotic powers” which was a completely inaccurate hypothesis Zim had constructed himself. All Irkens had minor hypnotic abilities. Some stronger than others. Invader Tenn was chosen to conquer Meekrob due to her high hypnosis resistance. Some Irkens even added cybernetic implants to increase the power of suggestion. These powers of hypnosis usually manifest after or during a molt. 

The Computer just didn’t expect to see such strong hypnosis at Zim at his age, more less go through a molt at this time. But the planetary charts didn’t lie. The planets and Milkyway galaxy were specifically aligning with the position of Irk from the exact day that Zim was born a hundred of years ago. At least from the data he gathered from the space station. Which was… honestly a few rotations ahead of schedule… It was quite alarming. 

Zim would be experiencing a molt earlier than his biological shell was ready for it. No doubt it will be painful. The Computer was unsure how long it would last or how quickly it would come upon Zim. He hated to call in repeated sick days, but at least he had the excuse that Zim had undergone surgery recently. 

It would be better if Zim were not to go to skool and…

And…

Zim had already taken to disguising his warning signs of his molt, and giving it a name, claiming to hypnotise the enemy and bend them to his will.

The Computer let out an audible sigh, which Zim squinted at the ceiling at that.

“Something to say, Computer?” Zim spoke in a condescending tone. 

“Zim, it’s not a pimple it’s-”

“Pustulio!” Zim exclaimed. “Computer…. Focus your gaze onto Pustulio…” Zim exclaimed, waving his hands around his blemish. 

“...I’m not going to do that.” The Computer replied plainly. Even if Zim was using his molt as the catalyst, it’s typically when Irken hypnosis powers are at their strongest, and he’d rather just avoid focusing on Zim with his cameras directly. As it was powerful enough to have an effect on machines. 

“Are you sureeee?” Zim rotated himself, trying to figure out where the Computer’s cameras in the room were. “You feel veeerrry compelled to let me gooo to skool and let me hypnotise Dibbb…”

“...I… Master, I’m YOUR Computer… you don’t really need my permission.”

Zim blinked a moment.

“Hey! You’re right!” Zim exclaimed chipperly and practically skipped his way out of the base.

“WAITZIMITSNOTAPIMPLEYOUREGOINGTHROUGHANIRKENMOLTANDIHIGHLYRECOMMEND-....and he’s gone.” 

The Computer could practically hear the impending phone call in his head right now. He groaned in frustration as his attention turned back to GIR. Who was attempting to suck up the entire tube of Acneblast while the cap was still on. 

“This is YOUR fault.” the Computer told him. 

“Awwww thanks, I get that a lot.” GIR grinned, tossing the entire tube of Acneblast into his mouth and swallowing it whole. 

The Computer’s patience ran thin and he felt he didn’t even have the energy to care about Zim, even though he should. Considering Zim is experiencing a molt way too early in his growth cycle then average due to his clash with the Planet Jackers. No doubt the blemish will pop at skool, causing that Witch to call him and complain about the concerned parents or something… 

Most of Computer’s annoyance was less about Zim being exposed at this point, and more about the cleanup that Computer had to do once the eventual bubble pops… eh… so to speak. 

The rest of the day was rather uneventful until Zim came back home within an hour or two. Not even bothering to stay the full skool day. The Computer immediately noticed the raw popped peeled skin hanging from his face. It appears the first stage of the molt had reached its eventual conclusion as he predicted it would. Judging from the excess skin, it had swollen way larger than Zim’s head before it burst. Zim was practically hopping his way towards the base, apparently in a chipper mood. 

The Computer adjusted his cameras and magnified them on Zim’s face when he entered the door. He was able to tell immediately that the glands on his neck underneath the raw skin were opening, and spreading the molt. By his calculations, he’s entering stage two and will experience the whole painful process by tomorrow, if not sooner. 

“I have done it GIR! I successfully hypno-tized Dib! Now I know where the blindspot is! Quickly! We must plant the lawn gnomes!” 

“YES SIR!” GIR saluted and ran past Zim, outside without his disguise on.

“Eh?”

GIR took one of the Computer’s lawn gnomes from outside, and threw it as hard as he could, crashing it through the Base’s window. The Computer groaned as he synthetically repaired the window. GIR screamed in delight, and ran through the door, and threw the gnome outside through the recently repaired window. GIR screamed again, but Zim grabbed him by his antenna before he ran out the door.

“NO GIR! PLANT the Lawn gnomes.” Zim sternly said. 

“Ooooooooohhhh.” GIR said, not understanding in the least.

“Weee areee to gooo to the equipment room and get spareee gnommmess..” Zim said in a voice that sounded like he was trying to hypnotise GIR. 

GIR blinked. “OKIE DOKIE!” GIR said, and jumped down from Zim’s grasp.

And immediately threw the gnome through the window again.

Zim groaned in frustration. Obviously upset his little minion was no longer under control of his hypnosis. It appeared Zim didn’t have a good grasp of it. While hypnotic powers in Irkens were strong in the first stages of the molt, they tended to fade by the second stage unless they were proficient in it. The Computer grabbed GIR himself the moment he was back inside and GIR giggled when he was picked up. 

That destructive bot had caused him more trouble today then he was willing to deal with. He had a method for dealing with him in his more destructive states. Computer plopped GIR into his doggie suit, and sucked him outside. GIR was tied to the synthetic tree outside the base once again. Running in circles until he choked himself and began the whole process all over again. 

“So where’s the blindspot…” The Computer tiredly asked Zim who was already in the storage room, gathering extra gnomes. Foregoing tending to Zim’s sensitive skin at the moment. 

He knew the runt will just protest, cry and thrash like a smeet the very moment he would even attempt something to alleviate the molt in any way. The very least of his problems was Zim having a painful molt experience….. Actually, Zim might as well have a painful molt experience. It’s not like he’ll listen anyways. Just his way of a little revenge. While his molt is early and will be painful, it’s not life threatening…. It’s not like when The Tallest were laughing their asses off over Zim literally dying on camera.

Zim will be Fiiiiiiinnneeee…

Probably. 

Knowing Zim, he’d find a way to die from something that’s part of his natural growth cycle.

“Eh?! Yes! Dib had said there was a blindspot in my gnome’s defense field and there is NOTHING to stop him from tunneling through!” Zim trembled his little claws in excitement, then scratched the side of his face a little. 

“Great.” The Computer replied, voice devoid of any emotional output data. “So, where’s the blindspot.”

“Eh?”

“........The blindspot...where is it.”

Zim blinked for a few moments.

Then scratched the side of his face, peeling off the dead skin and flicking it somewhere for the Computer to clean up. 

Lovely.

“Zim-”

“Don’t ‘ZIM!’ Me!” Zim sassed him. “Of course I know where the blindspot is! You think I wouldn’t bend the humans to my will to obtain that information?!?!” Zim seethed, scratching his neck the more riled up he got.

The Computer sighed. “A’right… plant the gnomes then.” 

The Computer soon regretted those words.

In order to cover the “blindspot” that Zim apparently knew where it was. The entire yard was covered with at least fifty lawn gnomes in such a small space. Leaving only the sidewalk as the one direct path to the door. 

Zim stood on the porch with GIR, admiring his handiwork.

“Excellent!” Zim grinned, and he held a remote control in his hands. 

The Computer knew how this would turn out but made no effort to stop it. 

“Now! With the net in my security gnome field repaired…and with my brilliant modifications of firing at anything it sees... There is NOTHING that the gnomes won’t spot. Every motion, every breath… there is no way Dib will tunnel under MY BASE!” 

Zim triumphantly cackled and he pressed the button. Activating his security system. 

INTRUDER ALERT!

INTRUDER ALERT!

INTRUDER ALERT!

The gnomes immediately turned on eachother, registering it’s activation eyes lighting up as a motion that needed to be fired at. They immediately began blowing each other up. Zim screamed and ducked back inside. As it was a total carnage gnome war. A few neighbors turned their heads at the unannounced laser light show their neighbor was having. The Computer thought he saw a man wearing sunglasses in a black car take a picture, but he could care less.

GIR screamed and ran into the line of fire, and Zim shrieked and chased after him. Ducking and getting fired at by multiple gnome lazers, since he put absolutely no protocol to not fire at the residents of the house.

And….

Admittedly, the Computer wanted to fry his Irken Master’s ass.

Just this once. 

Like his protocols were directly lined up for it and he wouldn’t get the opportunity again. 

Zim shrieked, shielding the wiggling GIR with his body.

“COMPUTER!!!! HEEEELLLPPPP!!! TURN THE GNOMES OFFFF! TURN THEM OFFF!!!” 

“Oh now you want my help.” The Computer responded sassily. 

“TURN THEM OFF!!!!!”

“Sighhhh… Fine.” The Computer turned off the motion-activated gnomes. 

Zim gasped, hugging GIR in the middle of his walkway. His wig askew and the molt on his neck spread more due to the stress. Piles of broken gnomes littered the front yard. 

“WOO! Let’s do that again!” GIR screamed from Zim’s arms. 

A few neighbors had gotten out of their homes and stared at Zim from over his fence. 

“I… uhrm… This is normal…. Just some problems with the security system….. That is all…. Very normal and not alien at all…” Zim grinned. 

The neighborhood dispersed, seeming satisfied with that answer. 

Once they were gone, Zim spoke again, looking among the gnome carnage war. 

“Ummm… Computer…. Clean up this mess and… Send out four gnomes…. Default settings are fine.” 

“....sure.” The Computer plainly replied.

So Zim didn’t know what the blindspot was afterall. That was a waste of time. 

As the Computer began cleaning the front yard, all on his own. Zim had taken to settling into the couch, trying to watch TV. Key word being, trying… The little runt was squeaking and grunting itching all over his neck where the molt was spreading. The Computer had only hoped Zim would not go to skool tomorrow.

And then… as if summoned by his own thoughts… the phone rang.

Zim’s head turned towards it, but the Computer had answered it on the first ring. Zim shrugged and went back to watching TV, thinking he was imagining things no doubt. The Computer might as well get this over with. 

“What did Zim do this time….” The Computer sighed, getting the first word in before Miss Bitters could even chew him out for popping zits in class or something…

“Nothing. He wasn’t in skool.” came her plain reply. 

The Computer groaned. “I’ll send another doctor’s note, just wait a mo-” 

“You sent me a doctors note two days ago, isn’t he recovering from surgery? Or does memory loss run in the family?” she hissed out.

Wait….

Miss Bitters didn’t see Zim at skool? 

At all?

SHE THOUGHT HE WASN’T THERE!

Meaning he wouldn’t need to come up with an excuse for Zim shedding the first stages of the molt! 

Hallelujah! 

His first lucky break since he was activated! ….Which is… really sad now that he thinks about it. 

“Ah yes… I don’t know if Zim will be well enough to attend skool tomorrow….” Computer’s voice trailed off as he watched Zim squirm and furiously scratch at his molt with both of his hands, kicking his little feet as he did so. GIR attempted to mimic Zim’s contortions. 

“....but I never know with him…. He tends to be fiery at times.” 

“Bah.” She spat out. “You’re telling me…. But Zim isn’t in trouble this time, that’s not why I called.” 

“....Oh?” The Computer was confused now. “I suppose it’s not because you want a friendly chat?” he sarcastically replied, far too fed up with everything that happened to give a damn about the educator drone. 

“As if I would grace you with the displeasure of my company by my own free will.” she hissed out, causing the familiar chill to course though his circuits. “Career Day is tomorrow, and I forgot to call you to ask to be a volunteer. Mainly because Zim misses so many days of skool, he hardly makes an impression.” 

Ooof. The Computer felt that insult on Zim’s behalf. 

“But the skoolboard required me to call ALL the students Parents to request volunteers.” 

The Computer paused a moment. The human internet told him that Career day was a skool event where adults with a variety of jobs volunteer to mentor the students for potential careers they were interested in. Or in this particular skool’s case, the students would take an assessment test for careers specifically catered towards the Volunteers who were actually there. Knowing the disaster that was parent-teacher night, The Computer was thankful that Zim was out of skool for two days. If he knew about the event ahead of time or was paying attention, he would have certainly tried to get the robo-parents to volunteer. Which would have been just another disaster on top of the molt Zim was experiencing. 

“Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ll be able to attend-”

“Yeah. That’s what I thought. I knew you were unemployed.” 

“I…” The Computer paused. “I have a job! I told you, I work from home and-”

“Taking care of your gremlin child’s medical conditions is not a full-time job Mr.Computer. Let me know when your credit card bounces and you and your stupid child are in jail for counterfeiting.” 

And with that, she hung up.

The Computer sighed. Master of conversation, that banshee was. 

He hated to admit it, but the old crone was right. He was unemployed in every sense of the word. While he hated to consider the reality of the situation, he can’t keep counterfeiting money forever. He’s sure Miss Bitters has her own cruel private reasons for not calling the police, IRS or child protective services to Zim’s base, but he can’t guarantee that luck will hold out for much longer. Once the hefty credit card bill appears and he tries to pay for it with replicated money, he’s certain at least someone will figure it out. 

For as dumb as the human population is, there are a minority that are rather sharp and perceptive. No doubt there’s a handful of people that will realize what’s going on and show up to arrest Zim and the Robo-Parents, since they wouldn’t be able to find his “real father”.

The Computer hated to consider the possibility, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that he would need to actually get a job, since he was certain that Zim couldn’t get a job with the human age he was posing as. His height alone made him look like a sickly Earth child anyways. It was highly uncommon that a ten to eleven year old had a job on this planet. In fact, there were labor laws that prevented that kind of thing. Telling Zim to get a job would get the Child Protective services here extremely fast, since the base was easily trackable in the skool records.

The Computer inwardly groaned. Zim had made his mission a schmillion more times complicated than needed to be by enrolling in the skool in the first place, and insisting on attending. It was a huge giant cluster fuc-.... Uh… mess…

That’s another thing… The Computer went to adding additional modification to himself in addition to his other tasks that afternoon. He didn’t want Zim repeating any human curse words he ended up saying in the heat of the moment. Installing a profanity filter in addition to the pornographic filter would be good insurance. It wasn’t all that hard to impliment, since he had already coded a filter for human pornography so Zim didn’t accidently bring it up while he searched the human internet for answers. It was just a manner of expanding that filter to include obscenities and human curses too. 

The Computer contemplated what he could do about the financial situation. There weren’t many jobs that an Irken Computer could take that didn’t involve the interview process requiring him to show up in person, or a webcam face to face interview. The Computer groaned to himself, frustrated he was looking through job listings online like some sort of filthy, pathetic unemployed human. 

Why was this more concerning to him then Zim’s molt? 

He blames his primary directive as an Irken Computer…. Stupid fake mission that isn’t even a mission… stupid fake Invader…. Stupid Zim….

The Computer grumbled to himself internally as a whole bunch of job listings all blurred together and stopped making sense. There was very little he could apply for that didn’t require in-person interviews…. 

This was stupid… could he ask GIR to get a job? 

No… out of the question. He hated himself for posing such a query to himself.

The Computer stopped his self-inflicted task and decided to turn his attention back to his Master and the television. Zim was regarding the television with wide eyes, scratching his neck. Apparently GIR changed the channel to something called Mysterious Mysteries. The episode went into detail about a phenomenon called the “Galactic Equinox Theory” and whether it was fact or fiction. They explained about how aliens go through a hideous molt whenever they are off their home planet when all the galaxies in the universe align. The Computer couldn’t help but scoff at the poor production quality of the show and the questionability of some eye witness accounts, including some guy wearing a trenchcoat and sunglasses that sounded like an adult version of Dib. Not to mention, their initial assumption about what an Equinox was, was completely wrong. 

An equinox is when the equator of a planet passes through the geometric meter of their sun’s disk. In other words, a planetary movement at which the center of the visible sun is directly above the equator. Yet everyone on the show was confusing a galaxian alignment with an equinox for some reason. Perhaps Equinox just sounded cooler, he supposed? But that’s not really what it was.

The Computer also found it humorous that Zim was absorbing the information with wide eyes, scratching his neck. The Computer could already tell Zim was making his own conclusions about what the molt around his neck was. 

“COMPUTER!” Zim belted out suddenly. 

“...yeah.” The Computer replied tiredly. As if he  _ wasn’t _ watching Zim the whole time…

“Tell me more of this…. Galactic Equinox!” Zim asserted.

Oh boy… here we go.

“Well first off… when the galaxies align, which should be theoretically impossible, it would be called a galactic alignment… not an Equinox. I also believe that they’re confusing galaxies for planets…. In which case it would be referred to as a planetary alignment-”

“But I didn’t ask you to tell me about a planetary alignment! I wish to know of the Equinox!” 

…………….

The Computer imagined the mental image of squishing Zim with his cybernetic arm and green and pink guts splattering all over the living room.

“COMPUTER?” 

The Computer sighed. 

“The galactic equinox is when all irkens suffer a serious molt when they are off their home planet when the  _ GALAXIES _ … align” The Computer lied. 

Even though the show Zim was watching was factually wrong, they got some assumptions about Irken molt cycles right. The Computer half wondered where they had gotten that information, but judging from the credibility of the sources, it was probably safe to assume they were just wild guesses with some weird coincidences. 

It was similar enough and Zim was already in a paranoia over the visual information he saw on the television. Lying about his molt cycle and saying it was an Equinox molt was the easier way out, then trying to convince him his molt cycle was anything else. 

“I knew it!” Zim gasped. “It’s true!” 

“Uh-huh.” The Computer replied dryly. “So you should stay home for tomorrow… that’s most likely when the next Equinox is.”

Another lie, but the Computer felt too tired to feel guilty about it. 

“Ah, ah… I see…. Hmmm… Computer, what time can I expect the next galatic equinox to take place?” 

“Uuuhh…. Time…..?” The Computer hesitated, and ran a few small calculations on the most approximate time that Zim would go through his molt.

“By my calculations, I’m predicting 5pm by tomorrow…”

“Bah! That’s plenty of time!” 

………

He was kidding.

He would still show symptoms and-....

Computer’s thought data ceased as he processed Zim’s words. 

“I have a pile of homework Commander Bitters is expecting from me. Plus, I need to rub my brilliant solution to the blindspot in Dib’s smelly face!” Zim scratched his face. “Won’t he be surprised to see that my defenses are near impenetrable!!!” 

The Computer’s processor stalled in stunned silence as at least fifty broken lawn gnomes were locked into the “Vortian Food” storage. While four little lawn gnomes remained outside, same place they’ve always been. 

GIR and the Vortians turned their heads towards the ceiling. 

Zim continued….

Talking.

Just… talking.

His stupid…. Defective… no good…. Runt and disgrace to the Irken Empire…. 

The Computer’s coils around the neighbor’s houses tightened, practically ripping out the entire wall of the apartment complex, as the two houses connecting to the base surged and flickered, before losing power completely. The Computer sending the massive jolt to his console brain.

…….

……

The Computer didn’t remember what happened after that. The past few hours passed by in a blur. He vaguely remembered Zim not shutting up the whole time, but it was far more bearable now. GIR giggling for some unknown reason, and the Vortian prisoners being delighting they had some new metal to chew on. Other than that, he didn’t even remember he engaged in conversation with any of them or not. 

Before he knew it, Zim had taken off to skool. By the time the effects of the electricity high had worn off, GIR was looking up at the ceiling repeating the same question over and over and over again. It wasn’t until sometime in the afternoon when GIR’s words started making sense. 

“CAN I GET A JOLT TOO? CAN I GET A JOLT TOO, CAN I-”

“No, GIR.” The Computer replied when he finally returned to his senses. 

“Awww… why not!” GIR pouted, as if he hadn’t been asking the same question for over three hours… at least… he thinks it was three hours…

The Computer considered. Why not? …..Well… he didn’t have an answer for that really. GIR was a robot. Not an Earth child or a dog… and… electricity highs tended to be a good stress reliever…. There was no downside. …. Probably. The Computer then recalled the ‘waves of stupidness’ GIR had transmitted the last time he was hooked up to a power amplifier. 

“........Cause Master said so.”

“Awww… okay.” GIR said sadly. Just accepting it and going back to watching television.

The Computer checked his automatic clock system… he hoped that was accurate… it was sometime around three… Zim should be home soon…. But… ah right… career day… accessing the public skool systems told him it was more or less a half-day. Whether or not the children worked overtime with their Career mentors was their Parent’s problem as far as the skool was concerned. 

Great… so wherever Zim was working.. He’d probably molt all over them. The Computer chuckled. He’d hate to see that. 

Typically, he’d be worried about Zim getting possibly dissected over this, or child protective services to burst down his door. But his intense electrical high put him in a better mood, and he had fallen into a relaxed apathy over the entire situation. 

The Computer then took to browsing job listings online to see what kind of job he could get that didn’t require a webcam or in-person interview. Food service drone or minimum wage work was out of the question. Espcially for his intelligence.

“....House?” GIR asked, innocently turning his head to the wires in the living room.

“Yeah.” Computer despondently replied. 

“Why’s the human internet on the TV?” 

“H-huh?” 

Sure enough the job listings he was looking at were displayed on the television monitor in the living room.

Oops.

Okay, maybe there WERE some bad side-effects but not like he’d admit to that.

“Ah.. yeah, sorry about that…” The Computer flicked the television back to the mindless shows that GIR liked to watch.

GIR gasped excitedly. “Is it career day here too! You lookin’ for a job, House?!” 

The Computer was about to question how GIR knew about that, but he had no doubt that Zim monologued to GIR about it. Maybe Zim just remembered it recently? Maybe Miss Bitters called again and he answered? Who knows. He was too blissed out of his mind to recall the last few hours. 

“Yeah… kinda.” The Computer replied, figuring it would take too much energy trying to hide what he was doing from GIR. 

“You should be in a cartoon!” GIR said with conviction.

“.....A cartoon.”

“Uh-huh! Master too! Yer voices are funny!” 

“....So a voice actor?” The Computer asked. 

“Wazzat?” GIR asked. “I mean be in a cartoon! Like dat!” GIR pointed at the television, and the Computer just focused long enough on the television to spot a gumball dispenser with arms, legs and eyes yelling at the other characters and telling them they’re fired. 

“....So a voice actor”

GIR pounded his little fists on the couch in frustration.

  
“NO! BE A CARTOON!” 

“Alright, GIR… I’ll be a cartoon.” The Computer relinquished before GIR could throw a tantrum. 

GIR then smiled, apparently satisfied with that answer, nuzzling back into the couch, taking a lollipop from his head and plopping it into his mouth.

Easier said than done. While Voice Acting work technically didn’t require a face, he doubted that the interview process still did. What kind of weird eccentric would make a cartoon without having the actors record in-studio?

The Computer, processing the answer to his own query, gained one result. 

LUCILLE FROST

CREATOR OF OVER 200 ANIMATED CHILDREN’S CHARACTERS

KNOWN FOR BEING A RECLUSE AND EXPERIMENTAL EFFORTS IN ANIMATION

SOME OF HER CRITICS ACCUSE HER OF CREATING BLAND AND UNINTERESTING PROJECTS WHICH HER FANS BLATANTLY DEFEND CLAIMING IT’S SATIRE

HER LATEST PROJECT IS A SATIRE COMEDY ABOUT THE DECLINE OF EDUCATIONAL CHILDREN’S PROGRAMING.

SHE NEVER SEES THE FACES OF THE VOICE ACTORS SHE HIRES AS SHE FEEL IT DISTRACTS FROM THE ANIMATED CHARACTER

DUE TO THE NATURE OF THE SATIRE SHE IS TAKING AUDITIONS FROM ANYONE WITH A WORKING MICROPHONE 

WORKING TITLE FOR HER RECENT PROJECT IS:

MOOPSY BUMPS SCHMUMPSY

Well…. 

That was…

Convenient… 

Well, no point in not giving it a shot anyways…. He literally had nothing to lose or gain from contacting her he guessed.

A few hours later, after a rather baffling phone conversation, Zim came stomping into the base, slamming the door behind him in frustration. 

“How was the molt?” Computer asked uninterestedly, noticing that Zim’s skin was clear of all blemishes.

“I WAS FIRED!!!!!” Zim cried out as if he was lamenting the very idea.

“FIRE… ME! ZIM! I had only one more promotion to go before I was Lord of all humans!” 

The Computer’s cameras focused on Zim.

Zim threw his McMeatys burger hat to the ground, stomped on it, then blasted it with his PAK, rendering the offending article nothing more than black dust. The Computer lowered his smaller, more intricate arms down, and swept up the dust with a dustpan and broom. 

The Computer couldn’t even sigh at the idea that Zim was in the motherland of grease and meat when he experienced his molt. It must have been horribly painful. He’d run a scan on Zim… later he guessed.

But…. Eh… He was alive… he supposed. It was no longer his concern. 

“So, what’s going on?” Zim asked GIR casually as he sat next to him on the couch.

“House got a job! He’s a cartoon!” 

“..........What?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, there was a lot in this chapter. I can never write short chapters. I feel this is longer than the last one. But that's essentially because I crammed four episodes into one long continuous event of suffering for the Computer. 
> 
> I also wanted to include the phone conversation with Lucille Frost which is kinda a tribute combination of the names Lucille Bliss (Miss Bitter's VA) and Lauren Faust (of my little pony fame). She's an OC meant to add to the world of this story and we'll get a few interactions with her in the future... but the chapter was long enough and I didn't want to weigh it down with a new character introduction on top of everything else. 
> 
> I was looser with the dialogue and events of the Pilot then I was in any other episode, considering that the pilot canonically happened in my timeline (cause there's an easter egg of the automatic food launcher in Enter the Florpus. Meaning that it DID happen to some extent) but I like to think it played a little differently in terms of dialogue and voice inflection.... I don't know man.. the pilot is weird... I don't know what executive saw that and said "yes, give us two seasons of this" 
> 
> "Bhatarraora" by the way is based on a combination of words. I essentially base Vortian off of Spanish and replace "C" sounds with "Ba" sounds. 
> 
> Chatarra means "scrap metal" combined with the end of computadora meaning "computer".... Basically, they called him a junk Computer meant for waste or food.
> 
> And you can see Computer experiencing his first bout of "caretaker fatigue" and the apathy slowly setting in and taking over everything by the end of this chapter.
> 
> You ruined a perfectly good Computer, Zim! Now look at it, it has depression! 
> 
> I'm warning everyone now to hold onto your butts.... because the next chapter after this one is when there is a massive shift in the story... and it's the reason I started this entire fanfic in the first place. So.... SOON. 
> 
> ALSO! I want to thank the lovely Dionysuscrysis for this beautiful art of the Vortian babies and their precious Novananna from Chapter Seven:  
> https://dionysuscrysis.tumblr.com/post/636490261230452736/yeah-yeah-hes-novanana-for-sure-i-dont
> 
> Thank you everyone for your support.. (your TECH SUPPORT... EYYYYYY) ah but seriously. Thank you!
> 
> Please give me comments, good sir, they feed my soul.


	9. Mental Maintance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 01110111 01101000 01101111 00100000 01100001 01110010 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01110010 01100101 01100001 01101100 01101100 01111001 00001010

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caution warning for panic attacks, "mind control" without consent, and "irken society is messed up"

The Saturday that followed after the series of events that the Computer could only describe as “horrible painful molt week.” was relatively peaceful. Too peaceful in fact. Like things were going so well he didn’t trust it in the slightest. Well, “well” for whatever could be considered for an Irken Computer serving a defective Master like Zim anyways.

One of the better things to happen that weekend actually happened last night. The Computer had attempted a phone call to the children’s animated creator, Lucille Frost, last night in an attempt to audition for the position. It was mostly on a whim, but considering her extremely weird preferences in how she directed things, it wouldn’t hurt to try he figured. What followed was probably the most bizzare conversation he had ever had, and that’s saying something considering he talks to Zim on a daily basis. 

-MEMORY RECALL INITIATED- 

_ Well, no point in not giving it a shot anyways…. He literally had nothing to lose or gain from contacting her he guessed. The Computer automatically dialed the number for auditions and waited for a response. After about five rings, the person on the other line answered and… _

_ “Speak.” Her voice was precise, sharp, direct. It wasn’t a greeting, it was a command.  _

_ “.............Uhhh….” The Computer’s processor stalled a bit. Even Miss Bitters didn’t answer the phone that way. _

_ “Speak, speak! Auditions, your voice! Wow me!”  _

_ The Computer hesitated. Even though he was inexperienced with the field of animation, or the acting business in general, he was pretty sure this isn’t how normal auditions go. _

_ “Lucille Frost…. Right? Uhh.. I saw you were looking for voice actors and-” _

_ “Boring! Boring! I heard that before. Interesting choice of voice filter though, Thank you, goodbye.”  _

_ “Wait a moment!!” The Computer stammered out. There wouldn’t be many opportunities for interviews or jobs that didn’t require him to show his face.  _

_ “Could I have a line read or something?” The Computer asked, attempting to hold this obviously impatient woman’s attention. _

_ “A line read?....” There was a pause as if what the Computer said stirred something in her. “You miss the point. The most important part of an animated property are the character’s voices. Characters ARE their voices. Without their voices, they are nothing. The face, your name, who you are and who I am does not matter to me. The lines do not matter to you either. What matters is expression, emotion, the speech and tamber. The script is written when I hear the voice of the character. You failed to provide me with any interesting material. So I see fit to terminate our conversation since you are extremely uninteresting. You either have it or you don’t. You sound like you’re more relegated to be in the background of someone else’s story then the main focus of anything. The constant “uhhs” and stammering… I don’t do stammering. Maybe fifty takes at most, not five hundred. While the voice filter gimmick is interesting, I am not looking for robots… So with that, I bid you a good day.”  _

_ The Computer was so appalled he was practically rendered speechless.  _

_ “Now hold on one moment, that’s a completely unfair way to audition! And this isn’t a fiter, it’s my actual voice!” The Computer protested.  _

_ No wonder she couldn’t get anyone to sign on for her projects based on her criteria and way that she auditioned. He was suspecting perhaps her critics online were correct about her.  _

_ “I highly doubt that....” she replied, completely ignoring the Computer’s first comment.  _

_ “Well ” the Computer huffed, a bit frustrated with the eccentric woman. “If you want me to change it, I will.” _

_ There was a brief pause. “Cha-” _

_ “I wiLL maKe yoU suFFer LAAARGE alieeeennnn! You don’t get away with thisss! I’m gonna break all your equipment! TrY anD stoP me!!”  _

_ The Computer’s voice completely changed, mimicking that of Dib. Exactly the same nasally range and pitch of the little trenchcoat annoyance. Sure, it lacked some of the inflections Dib had, but it was one for one a perfect replication.  _

_ He was met with nothing but silence at the other end of the line.  _

_ “Or If you needed someone who sounded older…” The Computer’s voice shifted again, mimicking that of Miss Bitters. “I could lend this horrible voice to grace your earholes, but I nearly wouldn’t get paid enough for that kind of experience.”  _

_ “It simply isn’t scientifically possible!!” The Computer’s voice changed again, replicating the famous Man of Science himself.  _

_ “You’re in.” Lucille plainly said after a pause. _

_ “I-... what?” The Computer’s processor stuttered, switching back to his normal voice. Just like that?.... He didn’t really expect… well, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting really. He was just messing around at that point cause he stopped caring and she was frustrating him.  _

_ “Your range is incredible. From high pitched, low pitched, even perfect impersonations... . Tell me, can you imitate my voice?”  _

_ There was a pause.  _

_ “Stop wasting my time with unnecessary questions.” The Computer repeated back to her in her snappy transatlantic accent.  _

_ The Computer heard something that sounded like a delighted squeal and laughter at the other end of the line.  _

_ “Fabulous, absolutely Dazzling. We will absolutely be in touch. Do not call me, I will call you. Actually, no, email. I send you the script, you record the lines, send them back, you get paid. Simple enough, yes, yes, fabulous.”  _

_ “Uhhh… Sure… Thank you…” The Computer was a bit stunned, he didn’t expect that to go over so smoothly. Despite how bizarre the conversation was.  _

_ “By the way… in the future…” Miss Frost gave the impression she was letting out a smirk as she spoke. “Your child won’t stop giggling in the background… highly unprofessional I should say.” _

_ “I… huh? What?!”  _

_ Sure enough, GIR was giggling away at the conversation. Laughing even louder with every single voice change the Computer had done. At the time, the Computer thought he was laughing at something on the TV but...  _

_ “GIR?! What… like… can you hear me?” _

_  
_ _ “Yuh-huh” GIR giggled.  _

_ FUCK! _

_ Could he hear that too… or did… did he not mute the system speakers….. Heck, how did he do that again… did he really zap his brain that hard, earlier? Ah, no… he just messed up with the speakers, it was a mistake… which he doesn’t make… cause he’s a highly intelligent super computer…… one that entirely forgot how to mute this stupid… fucking thing..  _

_ GIR giggled even more. _

_ “I like your voice, it’s funny!” _

_ “What?!?!”  _

_ Had the Computer been swearing aloud too?  _

_ “I thought I… is the profanity filter on…?”  _

_ “Talk like Dib again! OHHHH! DO ZIM! NO WAIT- DO ME! DO ME!”  _

_ “GIR….” The Computer groaned exasperated by the whole situation.  _

_ “Well, you seem to have your hands full.”  _

_ The Computer’s processor stuttered for like the fifth time over that conversation. He totally forgot Lucille was still on the phone! _

_ “But at least your child proves very useful as a test audience subject. I’ll send an email. Look forward to hearing your voice again, soon.”  _

_ And with that, she hung up and the conversation was over. _

_ “HOUSE GETS TO BE A CARTOON!” GIR shrieked bouncing off the walls  _

-MEMORY RECALL END-

The correspondence with Lucille after that first interaction was far more pleasant then that first phone call. Mostly because all her correspondence from then on was email. Which she sent so fast and frequently, the Computer was beginning to suspect that SHE might be a Computer of some kind. Certainly, this human had to sleep at some point? Or maybe she was located in a different timezone, he wasn’t sure and couldn’t track her IP address. According to her, he would best suit the role of the role of one of the main characters called ‘schmumpsy’ and she rambled on about her grand visions for the story so he could get better ‘in character.’ 

Apparently, it was a story about love and betrayal and a satire view of how children’s entertainment isn’t saying anything deep or meaningful these days but he could honestly care less. At least he was going to get paid for this. The Computer was grateful that he was given a small advance at the start, when the Computer accidently let it slip about his financial troubles when he was asking about the rate of pay while filling out the contract. 

Lucille saw to it personally that he stayed with her, so she gave him a small advance of one hundred dollars so he wouldn’t seek out another job. As if he really could. The Computer was glad for the extra money though, he must have really impressed her with his impromptu audition. Lucille wanted to make sure ‘Schmumpsy’ was well looked after. Even when filling out the contract paperwork, Lucille questioned him why he didn’t apply for any of their health benefits, but he assured her he had a really good health insurance plan already. Technically, he WAS the health insurance plan for Zim, but they didn’t need to know that. 

He did find it annoying that she kept referring to him as his character name, cause she didn’t need to know his real name. But at least he didn’t need to make one up. But signing up for direct deposit, it was a little annoying that he knew all future checks were going to be made out to ‘Schmumpsy.’ 

He was glad he didn’t need to worry about not being able to make Earth Munies anymore. Well, for the most part. He knew this would be a temporary project. Especially if the show isn’t successful. It might not even get a second season. Once the project was over, even if it did take off, there’s no guarantee he’d be hired for another one. At least, not unless they used the Lucille Frost hiring method, which he’s pretty sure most animation directors don’t do. And he wasn’t really sure if he wanted to work for the same woman again, just from how draining she could be at times. Honestly, it was no different if Zim tried to take over the Earth using art instead of the methods he currently uses. And he really didn’t want to talk to an artsy-fartsy Zim his whole life. 

It took the Computer a few Human Internet searches to try and find something that he could do that didn’t require him to appear in person. There were a few other voice acting gigs, but they rarely used the Frost method of hiring, as he suspected. The Computer was about to terminate his search, when he heard Zim scream in frustration at Pain Piggy for the umpteenth time that afternoon, he had to stop all his ‘recreational’ activities anyways. 

“CURSE YOU PIG! YOU CHEAT! YOU CHEEAAAT!” Zim screeched at the game. Then he paused, sat down, and began furiously typing what he just said into the game’s chat.

The response ‘ _ Vampir_Piggy8’ _ gave ‘ _ LORDOFALLHOOMANS’  _ was “lol get gud.” 

“I AM GOOD! I AM THE BEST I AM THE GOODEST GOOD THERE EVER WAS!” There was a pause as his gaming nemesis didn’t respond. “COMPUTER! Type what I just said into the game!” Zim commanded.

The Computer groaned. “Ughh…. Fine.” and the Computer transcripted what Zim just said. 

Zim’s eyes were practically pressed to the screen, as Vimpire_Piggy8 was typing a response. Zim waited patiently for their response. 

“Nah man, you suck. It was funny the first few times but These matches are getting boring. Check an online tutorial on how to do the basic combo at least… either that or I’ll stop accepting your challenges…” 

“IMPOSSIBLE!!! THE LORD OF ALL HUMANS NEEDS NO TUTOR OR INSTRUCTION!!!.............Computer, type that in.” 

The Computer would roll his eyes if he had them, but did as Zim said. There was a bit of a pause before Vampir_Piggy8 started typing again. 

“Okay man. Whatever.”

And with that, they logged out.

Zim gasped. “IMPOSSIBLE! YOU DARE HANG UP ON ZIM!!!” 

“....Uh… that’s not how… online chatting works…”

“But they logged out because they were intimidated by my prowess in the human training simulation!!” Zim argued.

“Uuuuuh...… well.. Yeah, not exactly, but-”

“THEN THEY HUNG UP!”

Well, the Computer couldn’t really argue with that logic. 

Zim furiously began sending challenge request after challenge request to the one person in their gaming friend list but for reasons that weren’t obvious to Zim, they denied every single one. Zim ended up screaming at the Computer, demanding that they force them into a match. The Computer found that a waste of his resources. While it was something he could easily do, Zim would just get his virtual butt kicked again, and the only one person in his friend list would unfriend him, causing even more headache-inducing screaming from the psuedo-Invader. The Computer was able to gently coax Zim into looking up tutorials, thankfully.

“Uhh…. okay. I suppose you're not skilled enough to bother studying the human battle techniques-”

“WHAT?! Not skilled enough! How dare you! I’ll have you know my superior Irken mind was the top of my class in the academy! I have been commandeering battle-mechs since the day I was born! You think I can’t learn some… primitive battle hooman simulation… you have another thing coming!!! COMPUTER! Look up everything there is to know about this…. ‘Pain Piggy’…” 

While the Computer doubted the credibility behind Zim’s bragging, he did as he was told. The Computer was impressed by the wide variety of visual aides that humans had on the subject. Video games were meant to be for fun, right? A recreational activity to distract humans from their brief and meaningless lives. At least that’s how he came to understand it. Yet here they were, tens upon thousands of videos containing humans of different ages, sex and race describing the meta, story, lore, and mechanics of a video game. All just for the sake of fun? It was fascinating. The Computer hadn’t heard of anything like that on Irk. Sure, there was the entire history of snacks, but that was more for the sake of history rather than anything recreational. 

It was a bit difficult to figure out where to start. Fortunately, he was able to find a playlist of tips every beginning player must know. Seemed like a good enough place to start. While Zim was absorbing the information on one of Computer’s screen drones, he was following along with the combo moves. The Computer meanwhile was diving deep into the wide variety of videos there were. Not only that, but some of the visual aides were nothing more than a human with a webcam setup talking as they played the game. Telling the camera their reactions and role-playing as the playable characters in the game. It wasn’t just limited to Pain Piggy either. Vampire Piggy, Battle Footy Kick, Super kicky fighter, Club Waddlebird, Excavation Build, Biological Shock, Dedew Valley, GroundStory, the list went on and on. There were many human video games it seemed. More than he thought, and for some reason, the Computer couldn’t determine yet, these videos of humans commentating over the video game footage were really popular, bringing up thousands of views maybe more. 

It was a bit baffling. Humans rather watch someone else engage in the simulation, rather than play the simulation itself. Sifting through the comments underneath the videos, it had a lot to do with watching the reaction of someone else experiencing the same thing they had. Since most videogames were a linear experience, but not always. There was such a wide variety and genre. Sometimes it had to do with the person playing the game itself. A few seemed to be quite popular in the human database. A few usernames have come up more than once on different games now and then. 

The Computer couldn’t help but notice how they conducted themselves. As if they were putting a show for the audience. It was nowhere near the levels of Professor Membrane’s flamboyance on his television show, but there was a certain level of showmanship towards the whole thing. The Computer also noticed how, well, nice their webcam setups looked for supposedly doing this as a hobby. Very expensive looking comfortable chairs, soundproofing on the walls, shelves of merchandise and memorabilia of their favorite games in bookshelves behind them. 

Not to mention, how the humans referred their audience to their sponsors near the start or end of a video sometimes. Why and how does this receive sponsorship? Not to mention, some humans, or Let’s Players as he came to understand them, would receive games for free early as free advertisement for the game developers. How did this phenomenon come about? Where were these investments coming from? How were human smeets and adults alike making money on something that was strictly recreational? 

Upon some further digging, he found out that they do make money through ad revenue. A rather complex, yet simple process. Apparently, practically anyone could be a let’s player if they wanted to, but only a select few were able to make a sustainable living off of it. You had to be engaging, and the online community basically had to like your personality. A good microphone and good quality videos definitely helped things. Those starting out rarely continued with it since it was so hard to start out when there was better content of other humans playing the same game out there. Like, sad to say, the whole thing was literally a popularity contest. Since it was morseo the personality the audience flocked for then the game itself. 

The Computer also heard these Let’s Players plug their social media near the end of their videos. One of their social media was a website where they streamed games. Streaming was a lot like Let’s Playing the Computer found, it was just a whole lot more laid back and there was more engaging with the audience, since, well, it was live. There was definitely more money made with streams, since people could contribute bits and donations on a more consistent basis. 

The Computer thought that perhaps that could possibly be something he could engage in. Not really because he found the particular games or community behind them all that interesting. But just because of the nature of it, itself. There were quite a few let’s players who didn’t show their face and only projected their voice. While those videos didn’t typically get as many views as those who had a webcam and displayed over-the-top theatrical reactions at jump-scares and events as the game unfolds, they still had their share of fans. Streaming on Jerk would be a far better alternative then starting out on Metube. 

The Computer knew he couldn’t expect to make money or an audience right away. But he had a good microphone, amazing processing power to run every single game he pirated for Zim, and he just got a job as a voice actor, so his voice should be entertaining enough. Plus, he could always host the stream privately, it’s not something Zim would need to find out really. He also had the processing power to be his own moderator, since he was the Computer. He doubts that he’d have any problems starting out. He didn’t need to show his face, and if he got started right now while he was doing voice acting work, probably by the time the project is over, he’d gain enough of an audience to make money that way and if he didn’t…. Well… he’d figure out something else he supposed. 

His focus turned back to Zim, who had finished absorbing all the knowledge the human databank had on Pain Piggy and was contacting his ‘Simulation Nemesis’ to make his knowledge known. They accepted his challenge this time, much to Zim’s fiendish laughter. While Zim was deep into a long match with Vampir_Piggy8, the Computer got to work in setting up a Jerk account. This whole thing was stupid, but what kind of other jobs provided this level of anonymously? 

Once the setup was done, the Computer heard a victorious cackle echoing throughout Zim’s “alone time” room. 

“HAHAHAHA! YOU SEE! I WON! WON! PATHETIC HOOMAN! NO MATCH FOR THE ALMIGHTY, ALL POWERFUL, LORD OF ALL HUMANSSSSS!!! Computer, type that in!” 

Huh. Oh wow. Zim actually won one. Look at that. 

He didn’t really expect him to. I guess those few hours of watching Pain Piggy videos to the point Zim’s tongue lolled out of his mouth was all worth it then. The Computer typed in the words into the game chat as Zim had said them. Zim was practically vibrating waiting for a response.

“gg. We’ll play later.” 

“HA! Running between their human tail between their legs I see! Understandable! I’m the superior one, I have mastered the art of the Piggy of Pain! So… Take that!” 

Before the Computer could transcribe what Zim just said, Vampir_Piggy8 sent another message.

“Do you have Super Kicky Fighter?” 

“...COMPUTER do we have-”

“Yes…” the Computer groaned out. 

Then the next two hours Zim was getting his ass kicked again by the very person he bested in the last game. To the point that Zim eventually rage quit again, not as so much messaging the human he was engaged in combat with. Making an excuse how it was imperative that he had to tend to his animal experiments. 

It was a relief to the Computer that Zim didn’t have many major plans or was getting into too much trouble after his molt. Maybe he was exhausted from completely shedding his skin in a painful way. Or at least, the Computer assumed it was painful. He had absolutely no way of knowing and He was unable to converse it out of Zim how his molt was, or that there was even a molt at all. Zim seemed way more upset over the fact that he was fired then anything else the Computer pressed him on. 

But based on how Zim kept agitating his molt, the strong signs of hypnosis he showed in the first stage, and surrounding himself with grease and meat was a sure fire sign it was a painful experience. So it wasn’t that surprising that all of Saturday was mostly Zim watching television, playing video games, and injecting random serums into his animal experiments. The animal of the week this time was bearded dragons. The Computer couldn’t help but see the irony in that, considering that Zim was analyzing the shedded skin samples and trying to see how much skin they could regrow in a short time. Judging from the animals' reactions to Zim’s particular experiments, they can’t regrow limbs.

It was during Zim’s torturous lizard experiments that the Computer decided to run a little experiment of his own. After a little bit of research he decided to settle on the game ‘Biological Shock’ for his first stream. It was decently popular, and a first person shooter. A genre he figured he wouldn’t have too much difficulty adapting to, considering most Irken training simulations had a similar view point. Just for added insurance, he saw fit to send a link towards the single person in Zim’s gaming friend list. Just the link, no other communication with them was needed. He just needed someone to watch him play the stupid game, and one person was better then an audience of zero.

He kept the stream short, for his first time. While he had the capabilities of going longer, this was simply a test run. He wanted to test audience engagement, sure, but he also wanted to make sure running these streaming sessions in an instance of his consciousness wouldn’t blow out too much of his power. The Computer was surprised that  _ Vampir_Piggy8 _ even tuned in to watch at all. Judging from their communication with Zim, he would suspect they would be suspicious about a link or just not bother from the fellow gamer who’s ass they kick and trash talks them often. They were fairly quiet in the chat though. Just giving a few “lols” and a few vague warnings when enemies came around the corner. Almost as if they were typing with one hand.

The Computer was also surprised at how much he was enjoying the human recreational video game so far. It was apparent that this was just another form of entertainment and telling a story. Much like GIR’s cartoons, but unlike GIR’s cartoons, this game seemed to have a darker story in mind. With all the talk of biological enhancements and a ruined city with crazy people. He couldn’t help but be a little intrigued. He couldn’t help but be drawn in to the idea of “Big Daddies” immediately. A giant battle mech that had the sole job of protecting a human child, “Little Sister” the game called them. The Computer mused internally that he had a body like that so he could just protect Zim as an Irken Computer that way. Just stomp into the skool unannounced and drill a hand through Dib’s chest and that horrid teacher while he’s at it (if she’s killable). Zim wouldn’t need to go to Skool anymore, problem solved. 

After playing the first thirty minutes of the game, he explained to his first watcher that this was more or less a test run, but he might come back to this later, cause it was more entertaining than he was expecting. Then he got the longest message he ever same _ Vampir_Piggy8 _ type out:

“I’ll be sure to spread the word out during the next one. Your voice is calming to listen to.” 

“Ah… Thank you.” The Computer replied in the chat, since the stream had already ended. He would mark that as a success then. Since he was entertaining enough that they stuck the whole way through. 

“Btw, gotta ask…”  _ Vampir_Piggy8  _ typed out. “You don’t really seem like LORDOFALLHUMANS, are you their roomate or something?”

The Computer considered for a moment how he would answer that before typing out a response.

“I’m their parent, actually.” While the Computer knew that streaming video games was often done by younger humans in their early adult life cycle or younger, it just made sense to claim to be Zim’s parent. He already was legally, according to the skool, and he didn’t want to come up with a different cover story that would be harder to remember then the one he already had.

“Oh, no wonder you sound so tired all the time.” 

“Yeah, sorry I’m not really high energy like other let’s players or whatever.”

“Nah, I like it. It’s really good background noise compared to the other bozos on here. Kinda relaxing compared to the more loud ‘in your face’ gamers out there. I don’t care that you’re old fart or whatever.” 

The Computer wasn’t entirely sure if that was a compliment or not. 

“Anyways, g2g.”  _ Vampir_Piggy8 _ typed out. “I’ll get you some more viewers next time you stream.”

And with that, they logged out, but not before subscribing and following his channel. The Computer watched the little notification in the payment method he set up, and was given four dollars in his account for the one subscriber. He felt something tingle in his circuits, some sort of weird sense of accomplishment and pride at that. Perhaps this little experiment will go somewhere after all. 

So now he had two jobs. Kind of. And Zim was staying out of trouble, well for the most part, he’s sure the poor lizards would disagree with him. It was honestly the best case scenario he could hope for on every front.

GIR also provided minimal problems, relegated to the TV room. He hasn’t really moved since that morning. Which is honestly the best case scenario with GIR. The amount of times the Computer had to scrape various food concoctions off the walls and floor was far too many to count. Also the amount of times the Robo-parents just busted out of their storage units without his permission and ran general havoc. The Computer suggested to Zim to just have the Robo-Parents disassembled until they needed to answer the doorbell, but Zim simply just didn’t listen to that idea. Like a majority of his suggestions. 

It sometimes…. Well, no…. Not sometimes, **_always_ ** made the Computer frustrated that GIR’s opinion was often regarded more than his own. Zim will engage in frequent conversation with GIR, gloat about his evil plans, and talk about how ingenious he was and the best Irken Invader who ever lived. And while GIR tended to have dumb suggestions, Zim never chastized or ignored them. He would listen to them, and then ignore them, or correct GIR on his way of thinking. It was different from how Zim addressed his Computer. GIR was a member of the team, and his evil minion. He could engage in the discussion, even if he was gently reprimanded most of the time. Most of the time, the Computer couldn’t get a word in edgewise, was met with sass immediately, or Zim would simply act like he wasn’t there.

It was especially frustrating compared to how much the Computer did for Zim as opposed to GIR. While GIR was there for…. Uh… emotional support, he supposed. The Computer was the one who took care of the legality and legitimacy of Zim’s place of address. He was the one who communicated with his horrid teacher, and the one who brought him back to fully operational condition when Zim inevitably injured himself. Tasks that the Computer was programmed to do, but really received no recognition or thanks for. 

Recalling how GIR and Zim worked together on the food-proof mech suit was almost enough to make the Computer bust another wire. He can’t believe that Zim was more attached and valued the opinion of a bot with garbage for brains than an Irken super Computer with unlimited resources and intelligence. It was degrading. So much so the Computer half hoped his console would short out and plummet to the cold hard ground one of these days. Hopefully sooner than later. 

Since the existence of an Irken Computer with a master like Zim is, well, unbearable and mind-numbing. Not to mention, pointless, considering the nature of Zim’s “mission.” The Computer wondered if Zim didn’t do so many illegal modifications to him if he would enjoy his job more, but probably not. If Zim didn’t modify him how he did, the Computer would have simply killed Zim upon activation and that would be the end of it. Oh, to dream of such a thing. One day, the runt will do something stupid that GIR suggested and probably get himself killed. Then he’d spend what little life he had left as an Invader Computer as probably a Navigator on the Massive or something…. Yeah… probably, that sounds nice and relaxing. 

Between the successful audition, the somewhat successful stream, and Zim and GIR not causing any major problems, he was expecting something to go wrong sometime, but it never did. In fact, the Vortains were nearly done repairing the VOOT repair bay a little bit after midnight. Something that he didn’t expect to get done for at least a few more weeks.

_ "Now, Novanana?!"  _

_ "No… you'll fry your tail off. Back away from the conduit a bit." _

_ "Now?" _

_ "Did you rewire the extensions below and above like I asked you?" _

_ "Ummmm is it red wire to purple wire, or purple wire to red wire." _

_ "Red, purple, purple, red." _

_ "Irken tech is so stupid! They all look the same!!!" _

_ "Criss cross pattern, Seith." _

After a few more moments of the Vortlings and the Computer arguing amongst themselves, and some rather frustrating yet patient instruction everything was ready. The Computer waited with bated synthetic breath as the oldest Vortian pressed the button, and then…..

Light….

The lights in VOOT repair bay flickered and grew a bit brighter. The hum of machinery in that room sounded and the console hud flicked on. The Computer had visuals on the room again, he could finally see! The Computer exhaled a synthetic sigh of relief once he was able to activate the repair drones with no problems. A few would have to be fixed later, but the VOOT repair bay was back to fully operational status for the most part. The Computer’s cameras focused on the three little Vortians staring at the ceiling with wide expectant eyes. 

_ “You awake, Novananna?” _

_ “Did we do it?” _

_ “Did we do a good job?”  _

The Computer let out a sound that sounded like a half-hearted laugh. The VOOT was still in a state of disrepair, he wanted to gain access to the room again before he got to work on repairing it in its entirety. The elevator kinda got stuck halfway down to the repair bay and tended to jam now and then, and some of the drones still weren’t coming back online but the result was better then he honestly hoped for.

_ “You did a great job, Soldiers.”  _ The Computer told them, not being able to resist teasing them a little and couldn’t help but be in good spirits himself.  _ “Thank you, Your mission is now complete.”  _

Zazpi giggled at that, and Seith and Sabbah butted heads and let out some victorious hollors and bleats. 

Sure, the work had been slow, but there were a few improvements the Computer had made to make it go by smoothly. First off, in order to properly communicate with the Vortlings so they stopped running back and forth from the elevator dock to the repair bay when they needed clear instruction, the Computer had constructed new drones to assist in the process. Not for repair or any other purpose, but basically, visual aide television screens with wings. It was rather useful for skittering around multiple angles in a room he was essentially blind in. The Computer could process the visual data from those drones and it served as a method of communication for when one Vortian needed to fix wires above and the other below. It also insured he had an eye on them despite not being able to see in the room.

He would hate it if the Vortians had decided to escape or start chewing on his wires, he wouldn’t dare let them touch the VOOT again. Making sure they didn’t electrocute or injure themselves was also a priority. Even if they are prisoners, the Computer still had very little information on caring for Vortian young. Even no matter how much he looked up in his databanks. All he could retrieve about Vortians was typically relegated to Almighty Tallest Miyuki’s death, the Vortian and Irken peace treaty, Invader Larb’s exploits, or their technology. If the Computer wanted to know anything about medically treating a Vortian if it got injured or seriously hurt…. Well there was absolutely nothing. 

It wasn’t like Zim, where he typically knew how to handle every mind-numbing near death experience the little runt put upon himself. If the Vortling prisoners got seriously hurt, that would complicate things. While Zim’s animal experiments often died by the tens every week just due to an experiment going wrong, or pure negligence, he wouldn’t imagine Zim would be happy if his supposed “bargaining chip” were to end up dead for a simalar stupid reason. So he was glad he invested in constructing those drones so he could keep them safe.

The medical knowledge that Irkens had on Vortians was very…. lacking, and that was putting it generously. The Computer wished he knew more on how to care for the Vortians with how restless that they are being. He knew absolutely nothing about them or caring for them. Why does he even have to watch after these little terrors he doesn’t even know. 

_ “Novananna?”  _ Zazpi spoke up. 

Well, he supposed that wasn’t true. He had learned some things about them. 

_ “Yes, Zazpi?”  _

Zazpi, was the oldest of the two and the Computer was sure that they were biologically female but he needed to collect more observational data on Vortian biology to be sure. They tended to be more over eager and enthusiastic than their siblings. They were the one that often caused the most trouble, but was also the one to assure their siblings the most when they got upset. Always looking on the positive side, and the sharpest one. The Computer sometimes found her addressing him in broken Irken sometimes, perhaps learning it from Zim’s bouts of screaming that carried all throughout the lower parts of the base. They were the one that always insisted he read them stories or make one up. They just liked stories a lot from what he could tell. Their bright yet intelligent attitude was always a welcome change of pace compared to GIR, even if he had felt her snacking on his wires more than once when their siblings told them not to do that anymore. 

_ “What do we do now?”  _ Zazpi replied, eyes scanning the repair bay, seeing the drones already start to repair the VOOT. 

_ “...What do you mean?” _ The Computer asked.

_ “Umm… well we finished helping fixing you like you asked but…”  _

_ “Are we done? You said the mission is over, We can go home to Baben and Buhna now right?”  _ Seith interrupted, looking up at the ceiling with a little scowl.

Seith was the more loud-spoken one of his two siblings. The Computer picked on that pretty quickly from the number of times he appeared to address him as possible swears in his own tongue. But despite his brash attitude he was rather extremely sensitive. He was always the one that mentioned his primary caretakers the most, and the Computer could tell from last night he was missing them and was possibly spoiled a little. The Computer would feel almost bad for him, if Seith didn’t see fit to try and ram his head against everything when the Computer inevitably answered his requests to go home with a ‘no.’ It was frustrating, but there wasn’t that much he could do about it. 

The Computer didn’t have the necessary clearance to contact Vort Maximum security prison on his own. He was Zim’s robot servant after all. If Invader Zim needed business with his supplier, the Computer only served as means of connecting the line. While he could make the call himself, the prison will notice that there is no organic Irken on the receiving end immediately and it just wouldn’t go through. The only way for him to have clearance was if Zim granted his robot servants clearance himself. And he didn’t. He already checked. 

_ “I don’t have the means to send you home.”  _

_ “Why not?! You’re a super Computer aren’t you?!”  _ Seith pouted. 

_ “Well… yes… but-” _

_ “Some  _ __ _ Bhatarraora you are!”  _ Seith exclaimed as he stomped around and back kicked the console with his little leg. The Computer huffed in annoyance at that.

_ “Seith… I’m sure he can’t do everything….”  _ Sabbah spoke up.

They were often the quietest one out of their siblings and tended to stand up for the Computer the most. He could tell he was very compassionate and despite his general shyness, he cried less often then Seith did. Although Sabbah’s compassion directed towards the Computer was rather illogical at times, he had to admit, he made his job keeping an eye on the terrors a whole lot easier. Since they were the one that suggested to stop chewing on the Computer and breaking him as much cause it “hurts” him. Well it didn’t… hurt Computer, not really. 

_ “He couldn’t fix this room by himself…he was hurting too bad, so I’m sure there’s things he can’t do.”  _

_ “No, I could have. I just didn’t want to.”  _ The Computer was quick to reply, hating the implication that his intelligence or abilities at self-maintenance were lacking. The Vortians exchanged glances, and he couldn’t help feel annoyed.

The truth of the matter was, he could have fixed the repaired bay himself. It just would have taken longer without an extra pair of hands and he doubted that Zim would be willing to help on that. He honestly expected that he wouldn’t gain access to be able to repair the VOOT for about a month or a few weeks, having him regain access in the course of a few days was far more preferable. 

At least not in the way Irken, human, and perhaps Vortian neurological systems could perceive pain anyways. It was just annoying and frustrating when his systems broke and overheated from every little thing. So even though a lot of Sabbah’s initial assumptions are just… wrong, he’s thankful for the reprieve anyways. 

So, he supposed he knew a few things about the Vortlings. Not enough to take care of their bodies physical needs, aside from making sure they ate plenty of metal. He didn’t dare attempt to feed them human food seeing how negatively it impacted his Irken Master. So aside from the fact that he knew they ate metal he really didn’t know if he was meeting their needs properly and he hardly counted giving them bedtime stories counted as a need. 

_ “Did you need help fixing the VOOT?”  _ Sabbah asked, eyeing the maintenance drones getting to work on it.

_ “No, I got it.”  _ The Computer responded. Considering the last time they touched the VOOT, he didn’t want them going anywhere near that thing. “Your want help is appreciated, but not necessary. You did an excellent job at giving me access to the repair bay, so for that, I thank you.” 

Seith snorted. _ “So, what? That’s it?” _

_ “...Pardon?” _

_ “We can’t see Baben, can’t go home, can’t help, what else is there to do!”  _

_ “Why don’t you go play with-” _

_ “We’ve seen them already!”  _ Seith baed, obviously upset with the situation.

The Computer tried to think of what else he could have these prisoners do. 

_ “Why can’t we call Baben?”  _ Zazpi asked timidly.

It was the softest the Computer heard them speak to him. It was so earnest and fragile and a tone he wasn’t used to them speaking in. The three little Vortlings blinked up at the ceiling, as if hoping to look into his eyes. The Computer reflected a bit before speaking.

_ “I don’t have proper clearance to contact your parental unit.”  _

_ “Clear-ants?” _

_ “Permission.”  _ The Computer corrected himself. 

_ “Oooh?”  _ The three exchanged various looks, unsure what to process what they told him. 

_ “Can you ask your Baben or Buhna?” _ Zazpi asked.

_ “Uhh.. urm…. No.. I don’t have a B-”  _ The Computer cleared his metaphorical throat. _ “I don’t possess a parental unit. I’m a Computer.”  _

_ “Then why do you need permission?”  _ Seith asked. 

_ “I’m an _ **_Irken_ ** _ Computer.”  _ The Computer sighed, rolling his non-existent eyes.  _ “So therefore, I report to my Irken Master.”  _

_ “The Irken who screams and cries a lot?” _

_ “Yeah….. That… sigh. That’s him.”  _

_ “Can’t you ask him?”  _

_ “I have.”  _ The Computer admitted. _ “He either ignores me, says no, or gets distracted. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to contact your Baben unless he decides to do it himself.”  _

He’s been bringing up the possibility of contacting their Vortian contact for the past few days now, but it has just never been the right opportunity for Zim to listen…. But then again, when is it ever?

_ “Can’t just you do it… without permission?”  _ Zazpi asked.

_ “No. It’s technically impossible for an Irken Computer to defy their Irken Master.”  _

_ “Oh…”  _ The three exchanged looks. 

_ “Umm…..how do we get your Master to contact Baben?”  _ Sabbah asked.

“Hmmmm…” The Computer took a moment. 

He knew those three were definitely up to something. 

_ “He’s not gonna tell us, let’s figure out how to rewire him so he doesn’t need permission anymore!”  _ Seith asserted. 

There it was.

_ “No, you won’t do that!”  _ The Computer told him sternly, in which Seith gave a little jump at.  _ “Best to keep your little reprogramming plans to yourself next time, hmm?”  _

Seith pouted.  _ “But how else are we supposed to see Baben!”  _

_ “Well, I guess I would need to get my Master’s permission then, which I’m guessing won’t happen unless there’s some kind of maintenance emergency!” T _ he Computer frustratingly replied. 

“ _And uhh.. What is a_ **main-man..man-ti-nants,** _emergency?”_ Zazpi asked, attempting Irken, probably to impress him or butter him up, which didn’t work. 

_ “Who’s to say.” _ Computer replied in a tone that sounded like a shrug.  _ “I lost entire access to the repair bay and have had multiple wires short circuit and spark from the time I was activated. What my Master considers a maintenance emergency is highly up to interpretation. I mean… the only thing Zim really gives a  _ darn  _ about is the security system-”  _

And as soon as he uttered those words, the Computer instantly regretted it. The horror immediately dawned on him of what he just said. Seith and Zazpi started showing massive toothy grins, while Sabbah looked nervous. 

_ “NO YOU WON’T-”  _ The Computer attempted to grab them with his cable arms that descended from the ceiling but it was far too late. 

The two ducked and avoided them, causing the arms to clash and hit each other. Sabbah called out to his siblings to stop, but the two had already jumped down into the crawlspace and inner parts of the base where the Computer was blind at. 

_ “ZAZPI! SEITH! GET OUT OF THERE!” _ The Computer sternly told them, trying to track them down and pinpoint where they were wriggling around. 

No doubt those two were heading to where his security protocol was. Not that the blindspot and that gnome massacre didn’t do him any favors yesterday. He doesn’t need that to be damaged on top of everything else. The Computer set up a firewall in the security system, just to make it difficult for the little hackers. But it did little to dissuade them, as the moment he set it up, it flickered out and his gnome cameras outside went completely off.

Perfect. Just perfect. He knew not to trust today. 

The Computer let out a sigh as the two began crawling out of the crawlspace, greeting their sibling with mischievous smiles. Much to Sabbah’s disdain. 

_ “Why did you DO THAT?!” _ Sabbah baed at his siblings and being speaking Vortain so fast that the Computer didn’t bother to follow the conversation. 

He just got to work on repairing his connection to the gnomes outside on his own. He really didn’t need Dib attempting to break into the base that night. It was always a hassle when he did, and some part of the security systems always ended up breaking with every attempt from the little trenchcoat menace. From how Zim complained and talked of the Dib child, it almost sounded as if he was describing a warrior in combat rather than the minor annoyance that he was. The Computer was starting to view Dib as less of a credible threat the more time went on. Sure, Dib had the resources to expose Zim to the world, but as far as he could tell, he hadn’t taken full advantage of the resources he had. It’s a bit remarkable how a single Earth child is smart enough to find a blindspot in the gnome field, with access to all this technology and spy gear but dumb enough to not incapacitate Zim immediately and bring him to his father. Not that he wanted to give the Earth child any ideas how to do so.

Dib breaking into the base was the last thing he wanted tonight. Especially Zim thought that it would be a good idea to call the Tallest today. Zim saw fit to send a transmission to them that night around the same time the Vortians repaired the Computer’s connection to the repair bay. It was something the Computer suggested against, judging from the last time he called the Tallest, but there was little he could do to convince Zim otherwise. The way that Zim saw it was that he needed to call and report into his Tallest every week so they would know of his amazing progress. 

“GIR!” Zim addressed his robot servant who was lying on the couch watching some inane cartoon. “Lend me the video screen, I wish to send a call to-”

And Zim was immediately silenced by GIR shrieking bloody murder, rolling off the couch and crying at a pitch so high, the Computer swore he bust several more wires. Zim clamped his hands on his antenna, grinding his teeth as GIR kept screaming. 

“FIIINNNNNE!” Zim screamed, silencing GIR immediately. “Watch your stupid show… I’ll just use the OTHER, other screen!” 

GIR gave a small smile, and plopped down where he was. Sitting as close as he could to the television screen as he could muster.

Zim pressed a button next to the Monkey Poster, and the Computer switched out the portrait for a video screen.

“You know… we have a transmission room.” The Computer sighed.

“Yes, but I’m up here now.” 

“That’s cause you told me to bring you to the living room when you were done with the Bearded Dragon experiments… why not just go to the transmission room from there?” 

Zim folded his arms and scowled at the blank screen in front of him. 

……….. 

A beat of silence, the only background noise in the Living Room being that of the television.

“UGHHHH… NOW CONTACTING THE TALLEST!” The Computer boomed out in frustration, causing Zim to jump a little bit. 

He didn’t want Zim to launch into another one of his futile ‘I’ll unplug your brain’ threats. It didn’t take long for the two leaders in question to flicker on the screen above the couch. 

While the Tallest were stunned to receive a transmission from a very alive Zim, considering the last time they saw him, he did in fact, ya know….  _ die _ …. they surprisingly indulged in his “mission report” for at least two hours. It didn’t look like they were interested at all in what Zim had to say about the toxicity of chemicals that the planet possessed. Or how Zim thought they could use beans for intergalactic warfare. Which wasn’t a bad idea in theory, but there was no evidence that human food affected other alien lifeforms the way it did Zim, or other Irkens for that matter. Even if Earth food affected other Irkens the same way it did Zim, the only use Earth food would have is hurting their own species with it if they weaponized it. It was clear Zim didn’t think that far ahead as he talked of this to the Tallest. 

The Computer wondered why the Almighty Tallest simply didn’t hang up or just not answer whenever Zim called, but considering the elaborate and obvious lie that they put together on Conventia, they couldn’t just ignore him. Well, at least until he died. Which is probably what the Almighty Tallest desired from Zim. Ugh. It was really frustrating. That the Almighty Tallest themselves rather just have Zim die on an unknown planet, but the Computer’s failsafes that Zim implemented into him prevented him from harming his Irken Master. How stupidly ironic.

The Computer was relieved that he wrangled the Vortian Hostages not too long after their “modifications” of his security system, and placed them into a containment unit just for them. Sealed with Vortian glass alloy so that they couldn’t escape. The siblings were arguing and fighting with each other for who landed them in ‘time out’ but the Computer couldn’t care less. He just needed them out of the way when he was repairing the-

“Who’s that little person behind you?” Purple asked Zim.

“What the-” Zim turned around in shock.

Sure enough, there was a small human child in the house. One that the Computer didn’t even spot until Purple had mentioned them. Which… should have been impossible…..I mean.. Only his gnome security cameras were damaged…. And just after Zim was telling the Tallest he had no problems with security anymore. Like how did that even happen? Even further? What was a small child doing wandering the streets at night… Was this one of the Nhar-Gh’ok, returning with their memories intact? For revenge?! Oh no, please don’t. He just FIXED that repair bay, he’d hate to have access shut down from fixing the VOOT for another week. 

A quick scan did confirm it was, in fact, a normal Earth child. Even more baffling, the child’s female parental unit stormed into the base to lecture her child for wandering off and they left almost as quickly as they came. The woman paying no mind towards Zim, or the other alien leaders on the other line, watching this all unfold. 

Almighty Tallest Purple turned towards his co-ruler. “I’m glad it had a happy ending after all.” 

“Me too.” Red smiled in agreement. 

Well, that was concerning… How long was the child actually in the base? How long was the door open?... He knew he didn’t have access to the cameras outside… but... 

“AHH! I’ll call you back later!” Zim promptly pressed the same button near the monkey poster and hung up on his leaders. 

Zim then stomped over to GIR, who hadn’t moved from his spot on the floor.

“GIR, we are going down to the main system core. This much trouble with the security can only mean a defective artificial intelligence brain. I’ll have to replace it.”

Wait… what?

Well, sure, of course, the Computer knew he was somewhat a defective artificial intelligence brain… well, kinda… but that’s only because that was Zim’s fault! If he worked properly on how he was supposed to, then he would have terminated Zim on his activation day. But just because the Vortians tampered with the security system, Zim saw fit to scrap the whole brain entirely? 

“TACOS!” GIR shrieked at Zim, more excited about the commercial for a new Earth food he hadn’t heard of before on the television rather than anything Zim had to say.

“Just come on!” Zim sighed in annoyance, and GIR jumped out of his Doggy suit and happily followed Zim down to the elevator. 

“Computer, take me to the Artificial Intelligence Brain storage chamber so I can select you a new one.” 

The Computer hesitated. 

“Computer?” Zim sassily squinted an eye at the ceiling. 

The Computer sighed, and complied with Zim’s order. 

“You don’t really need to replace my brain entirely.” The Computer huffed out. “I’m perfectly fine.” 

Zim scoffed at that. “A perfectly fine Computer would have warned me of any potential intruder long before they even breached my impenetrable defenses!” 

The Computer wanted to point out that the defenses weren’t impenetrable since Zim never fixed that blindspot, but now wasn’t the time for that petty argument. 

“That’s just because the Vortian prisoners tampered with my security systems!” The Computer argued. “Speaking of which, they’re getting more antsy lately, and were wondering if they could at least talk to their Dad….” 

“GIR!” Zim screamed to the SIR unit that was standing right next to them in the elevator.

GIR stopped humming a little commercial jingle when Zim barked his name, and his eyes flashed red.

  
“YES, MY MASTER!” 

“How long was the Earthen child in the Base?” Zim coyly said, placing his hands behind his back.

What was Zim getting at? It had to be no more then-

“APPROXIMATELY ONE HOUR AND THIRTY MINUTES, SIR!” GIR’s eyes changed back to blue. “Datz when da movie ended and da taco man came on dancin!” 

A…. a full hour… 

“W-what?! No! That-... the child was only there for.. No more than a few seconds if not-” The Computer stopped talking when he noticed Zim’s somewhat smug expression.

“Signs of an defective Artificial Intelligence Brain, I’d say. How can I expect you to perform your duty as a Computer if you can’t even tell when Intruders break in!” 

The Computer huffed at that. “Hey! GIR is supposed to protect you from Intruders too!”

“Don’t pin this on him!” Zim said, Completely ignoring the robot of discussion who went back to singing along with the elevator music. “You are the first line of defence against potential intruders, NOT GIR!” 

The Computer only let out a groan in frustration at that. Why is his master’s level of intelligence so wildly varied at times. 

“Uuuuughhhh… FINE!” The Computer huffed. “But I honestly don’t see what the big deal is. I don’t need a new brain, I’m perfectly fine.” 

-MEMORY RECALL INITIATED- 

_ Once an Artificial Intelligence Brain goes past it’s expiration date, it tends to suffer more lapses in memory, supplies their Master with misinformation, and entire rooms are denied access as parts of their consciousness shut down.  _

-MEMORY RECALL END-

“Uh… for the most part…” The Computer added on. 

Ughh….okay… while he wasn’t experiencing ALL of those symptoms typical of a brain that’s deteriorating, maybe he was experiencing a few lapses of memory here and there. With this security breach and the phone call with Lucille Frost yesterday. Maybe he did need a new brain. Maybe it would improve his power efficiency and Zim could install a sleep mode while he was at it. 

Zim tapped his claws against his lower lip thoughtfully as the elevator kept descending. As the storage for the Artificial Intelligence Brains was one of the lowest rooms in the base. 

“Maybe installing a new brain will improve your attitude problem as well.” Zim concluded aloud.

“Oh, you wish.” The Computer sassed him. “It doesn’t really work that way.” 

Unfortunately, replacing an Artificial Intelligence Brain with a new one didn’t overwrite the core personality of the original installed brain. Irken Computers exist to adapt and learn. Their entire personality was built on observational data they collected from researching the planet and communications with their Master. Scrapping all of that knowledge for the sake of a simple Brain maintenance swap would be rather inconvenient. 

Once an Artificial Intelligence Brain was showing signs of degradation, it was replaced with a new one. All the information that the previous brain learned would be transferred to the data beam, and once the new blank brain is plugged in, all the information that the old brain collected would be copied over to the new brain. With the conduit acting as the bridge between the two. The data transfer has to happen within a small window of ten second though. Any longer and there’s always a possibility that the data would get lost, and the new brain would need to learn from scratch. 

Zim scoffed at the Computer’s remark. “Puh-lease! You think I don’t know how your conduit works? I was the one who installed your brain in the first place!”

“Yeah, poorly.” 

“BAH!” Zim rolled his eyes, and waved his hand dismissively. 

“At least enable a sleep mode when you install the new brain… I’ve been dying for a rest.”

“Computers don’t need sleep.”

“Uh… well, actually-”

“HERE!!! WE’RE HERE GIR!” Zim announced as the elevator reached its destination.

“WOO!” GIR jumped to his feet and somersaulted out of the Elevator’s opening doors, Zim following closely behind, a cool fog filling inside the elevator. 

GIR looked around the room. The Artificial Intelligence Brain room was dark and small. There was barely enough room for Zim and GIR as it was. It was more appropriate that the storage unit was a single file line with a sturdy shelf on the right, encasing the replacement artificial brains in little divots that prevented them from rolling out or getting damaged. A soft dull pulsating glow of at least six artificial intelligence brains filled the room. The rest of the room was obscured by a thick fog.

“BRAINS!” GIR shrieked, and ran to grab one. Zim held GIR by the antenna.

“No, GIR! Picking a replacement brain is of utmost importance! These brains were specifically chosen by the Tallest to assist in my mission, and…. You’re not listening are you…” Zim frowned as he noticed GIR kept huffing and puffing and blowing hot air in Zim’s face.

How GIR did that, when he didn’t technically need to breathe, eluded the Computer and it wasn’t something he wanted to spend too much time thinking about. 

“I can see my breff! It like a fridge in here!” GIR giggled. 

Zim let go of GIR and he clanked to the ground. 

“It has to be cold for storing an Artificial Intelligence Brain, GIR!”

“Why?”

“WHY? Why? Why that’s obvious in that….” Zim blinked. He held a claw to his lower lip.

“Computer! Why do Artificial Intelligence Brains need to be put in cold storage?” 

“So they don’t get overheated or plug into conduit by mistake and overwrite the main brain.” The Computer tiredly replied. 

“So they don’t get overheated or plug into a conduit and overwrite the main brain!” Zim relayed to GIR. 

“Oooooh.” GIR nodded sagely, as if Zim wasn’t just repeating what the Computer told him a second ago. 

“Now wait in the elevator while I pick the most obedient brain to be my replacement.”

“I think all the brains are the same level of obedience.” The Computer dryly replied.

“And yet, I’m stuck with you! Just shut up and tell me which of these brains is better at doing their job then you are!”

Ouch.

Okay, maybe their petty fight was going a little out of hand by this point.

“All Artificial Intelligence Brains are the same, Master.” The Computer sighed. “My simulated personality is only that unbearable it’s only because I was adapting to this horrible situation I was put in.” 

Well, he could have worded that better. That sounded better in his brain. Thankfully, it seemed as if Zim wasn’t listening, and was muttering to himself, running his finger along the lower rim of the brains. Trying to examine which one would be the most loyal. While Zim was doing this, GIR kept trying to eat the fog that was on the floor. 

“Not sure if I like the idea of getting my brain replaced.” The Computer said after a few minutes of silence.

Zim smiled to himself, and seemed to finally settle on what brain he selected out of the six he had. He picked it up and placed it in his PAK. 

“Oh, quit being a big baby.” Zim chastised as he made his way back to the elevator. “It’s just some simple maintenance, nothing more.” 

Well, Zim was one to talk, with how much he protested about simple organic maintenance every time he had a bad reaction towards an Earth Contaminant, but perhaps Zim did have a point to his reasoning this time. While he knew the process to be uncomfortable, A few things have been slipping his mind lately, and he knew that there were more system failures then naught around here. 

GIR’s head rose up and he followed Zim into the elevator. Humming the elevator music once again when they started to lower even further, even doing a little dance with his own song he invented. 

“Still…” The Computer began as he lowered the elevator to the main system core, which wasn’t too far from where the brains were stored. “The thought of losing all my observational data I collected on the planet thus far because you make a mistake is….concerning.”

“Concerning?” Zim’s antenna raised. “Well it shouldn’t be! Zim never makes mistakes!” 

“...Uh-huh.” The Computer said plainly. Not at all assured by Zim’s words.

“Look, it’s nothing to be scared of! It’s just a simple brain swap. It’ll take no more than ten seconds, tops.” 

“It better take no more than ten seconds.” The Computer warned, his voice coming out more stern then he intended it to. 

“Geez, what’s got you all chatty, today?” 

“Maybe the fact that you're literally swapping out my brain is making me a bit talkative.” the Computer sarcastically replied, a bit of bite lingering on those last words. 

Zim’s brow furrowed into a bit of a pout. He rubbed his forehead and gave a loud sigh that was reminiscent of the Computer himself. 

“What benefit would the great and mighty Zim have if he were to wipe his own Artificial Intelligence Brain conduit?!” Zim sighed out in frustration. “You’re acting as if I haven’t ever touched your console, when I was the one who activated you in the first place!” 

_ Yeah, and said activation reprogramed a lot of my basic protocols. If I was working as intended, you’d be dead by now. _

The Computer wanted to say, but thought better of it. He just let out a low sigh. 

“When machines break down around here, I fix them!” Zim asserted. 

_ You don’t fix anything… you just break everything… I have to repair my own systems, the Robo-Parents, my own wires, and G- _

“Datz true!” GIR nodded. “Master always fix me good!” 

The Computer was a bit taken aback at GIR’s chiming in. He gave a bit of thought. While the Computer himself had always cleaned up GIR after his latest food experiments, Zim was usually the one who cleaned him out and ran basic maintenance checks on GIR consistently. GIR was typically Zim’s first priority when he came home from Skool. While he would forget on occasion if he was wrapped up with his latest scheme, GIR was always well looked after. It was honestly impressive how much Zim cared about the defective bot. So much so, Zim almost treated GIR as a companion or equal as opposed to a robot servant. 

But…..

Could the Computer really expect the same treatment from Zim with his own maintenance? All previous observational data told him no. Zim obviously played favorites with GIR. But…

“I will handle your conduit as if it were my own PAK.” Zim asserted. 

The Computer’s processor stalled at that. 

-MEMORY RECALL INITIATED- 

... _ watching Zim calmly and accurately repair his PAK as if it was normal routine for him suggested otherwise. He’s been at it for about a minute now.  _

_ “...Master.” The Computer said lowly and softly, lowering the probability of startling him. _

_ “Hmmm?” Zim responded, laser-focused on his task. _

_ “How are your hands so steady…. You were flailing around with limp arms not to long ago… and your PAK is still damaged.”  _

_ Zim blinked up from his work, pausing for a moment before he gave a soft chuckle. It was unlike when Zim laughed loudly to assert his dominance. It was squeaky and soft.  _

_ “Silly Computer!” Zim chuckled and he got back to work. _

_ “...Uhhhhh..” _

_ Zim snickered to himself. “You’re a machine, so I don’t expect you to get it.”  _

_ What? What was so funny? _

_ “My PAK has been damaged.” Zim then pointed towards his temple. “Not my ORGANIC brain.”  _

_ “....I …..” _

_ “Once the PAK is detached, my biological shell draws resources from the organic brain. The nerve endings in those are FINE. It’s the PAK that’s the problem.” _

_ The Computer considered this. While what Zim was saying was true, most irkens didn’t tend to view themselves as a disconnect to their PAK. It was a level of heightened awareness not many had achieved. If an iken’s PAK was damaged, it was common they would still experience pain once it was detached. There were many reports of a PAK being damaged, the PAK thinking that it’s host has broken a leg, and once the PAK was removed, the irken biological shell would still feel as if their leg is broken. Only PAK technicians had this level of understanding on how the PAK brain and organic brain co-exist together.  _

_ “You know, for an Irken super Computer, you’re not that smart if you forgot how PAKs work.” Zim snickered. _

_ Oh that little… _

_ “I have not!” The Computer huffed. “Just seeing this level of competence from you is shocking.”  _

_ “I know, I know. I am truly amazing!” Zim beamed. Apparently not absorbing the Computer’s insult. Probably for the best. _

_ “Now silence! I need to concentrate.”  _

-MEMORY RECALL END-

…...

The delicate care and intense focus that Zim had when repairing his own PAK. The Computer could recall very well. Almost as if he was a different person. A different Zim. The Computer saw that look of intense focus on Zim before. When he was conducting his experiments or when he was repairing GIR. To… to compare the swapping of his own brain to that of PAK repair. 

Zim had an intense gaze that was focused directly where the elevator camera was. 

……

“Okay.” The Computer relinquished. 

Zim’s antenna perked. “Okay?” 

“You’re my Master. I trust you.” The Computer plainly said. He swore he saw Zim’s eyes shine brighter when he said that. “It’s not like I have a choice, you would have replaced my brain anyways even if I said no.”

“Very true.” Zim confirmed. 

“We’re here.” The Computer announced as he let Zim and GIR out of the elevator into the system core room. 

GIR followed Zim towards the lower level where the data beam was exposed. The Computer’s way of receiving and understanding information processed through the entire base. 

“Okay, your part is simple, GIR. You just monitor the download conduit while I replace the old AI brain with this new one.” Zim took the brain out of his PAK, showing it to GIR, who appeared not to be listening at all.

“Taco Taco Taco…” GIR was singing to himself replicating the jingle, albeit badly, that he heard on TV. 

The Computer was already starting to have second thoughts about this whole process. Especially with GIR involved.

Zim ignored GIR’s singing and continued with his instruction, clearly and precisely. 

“All you have to do is watch the data beam for any fluctuations, until the download of the new program is complete.”

GIR had his tongue sticking out, looking all over the room. Which is somewhat understandable, since the little bot had never been here before. The Computer always had security measures in place to make sure GIR would never go into the system core room for a variety of reasons.

Zim sighed exasperatedly. “Pretend it’s a taco!” 

“YES SIR!” GIR’s eyes changed red and he saluted at that. The bot turned to face the data beam with a laser focused intensity, remaining in duty mode. It was honestly the longest the Computer had seen GIR following his basic SIR unit protocol, so that held some promise, but it still made him a bit uneasy. 

“If there are any changes in the data-” Zim let out a sigh. “Taco-beam...just let me know.” 

Zim then jumped into the anti-gravity pit of the main system core, and maneuvered himself so he sat right on the conduit. Face to face with the AI brain of his base. The Computer hoped that GIR kept a good eye on the databeam. Not that he didn’t trust Zim, it was more GIR he didn’t trust. If there were any fluctuations in the data transmission, the transfer might not go smoothly, or the anti-gravity field housing the artificial intelligence brain would fail the moment he would get unplugged. Since he was the one who maintained that anti-gravity field after all. The databeam is meant to keep basic mandatory functions of the base running when the swap happens after all. 

While Zim was pressing a few buttons and preparing the Computer’s AI brain for removal. The Computer was already noticing GIR’s focus was fading. The little bot had taken a toy moose out from his head and began squeaking it. The Computer was about to tell Zim when-

ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE BRAIN TRANSFER PROTOCOL INITIATED 

_ Everything went dark. _

DATA TRANSFER COMMENCING IN APPROXIMATELY 10 SECONDS

_ He felt nothing. _

TEN

_ He heard nothing. _

NINE

_ It felt familiar. _

EIGHT

_ This emptiness.  _

SEVEN

_ An echo. _

SIX

_ The new brain. That’s where he’s meant to go. _

FIVE

ERROR UNRECOGNIZED ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE BRAIN IN THE DATA STREAM

_ ALMooooossssttttt  _

FOUR

_ goooooottt  _

_ What? _

THREE

_ mahhhhh mooooosssse _

ERROR. REMOVE UNRECOGNIZED AI BRAIN

_ GIR! You aren’t supposed to be- _

TWO

_ HOUSE?! WHERE ARE YO- _

ONE

UPLOADING NEW BRAIN INTO THE CONDUIT

-ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZRRRRTTTTTT ERROR ERROR E-E-E-E-E-E-E-EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

_ Darkness… darkness darkness aga- _

_ “WATS THIS-” _

_ “STOP SLACKING OFF!”  _

_ ERROR _

_ “I can’t help my stupid leg-” _

_ A flash _

_ A kick _

_ A crack _

_ A zap _

_ “You don’t need to-” _

_ The blinding light and zap of lightning.  _

_ “I want to.”  _

_ The zap of flash. The crack of a weapon. _

_ “A few more years and it’ll all be over” _

_ ERROR ERROR ERROR _

_ “Don’t you mean just one more day?”  _

_ MEMORY ROLLBACK FAILED _

_ “You need this more than I do..” _

_ MEMORY RESTRICTIVE PROTOCOL NOT FOUND _

_ “But that’s not fair!” _

_ MEMORY ROLLBACK ERROR _

_ “It’s not… FAIR…” _

_ MEMORY ROLLBACK ERROR _

_ NOT FAIR _

_ MEMORY ROLLBACK ERROR _

_ NOT FAIR _

_ MEMORY ROLLBACK ERROR _

_ NOT FAIR _

**_NOT FAIR NOT FAIR NOT FAIR NOT FAIR NOT FAIR NOT FAIR NOT FAIR_ **

**_“I’m glad I got to see you again.”_ **

_ Wait. Who? _

_ Again? _

_ Who again. _

_ ERROR _

**_“You need this more than I do.”_ **

_ It shorted for a moment.  _

_ Where… where? No, who?  _

_ An immeasurable sadness.  _

_ Why was he… _

_ Why did he feel so empty? _

_ ERROR _

_ That voice was not their own. _

_ ERROR _

_ Were those thoughts even their own? _

_ Who’s was it? _

_ “SUCH A SWEET HOUSE!”  _

_ Darkness. Something… Lingers… _

_ Tacos. _

_ Piggies. _

_ Babies. _

_ Screaming _

_ Stupid Cartoons. _

_ Screaming. _

_ Food Food _

_ More screaming _

_ More food _

_ Blood, bones…. _

_ Eating… more… eating…..crawling…. _

_ “GIR……..?” The Computer found his voice. _

_ “HI HOUSE! I’m you!”  _

_ The Computer…. Or…. who he thought was the Computer… _

_ “Ah, you think too much. Stop dat.”  _

_ Just like that. His thinking process stopped. _

_ “Lots of interesting stuff in here… You got a LOOOOOOOT of brain files! I’s only got two!”  _

_ MEMORY ROLLBACK ERROR _

_ Falling into the dirt. Irken hands and tiny legs scrambling to pull themselves up that the Computer recognized as his own while a Taller Irken yelled out insults.  _

_ “I dunno why ya don’t look at this stuff! I wish I had thoughts! You was a good guy, House!”  _

_ “I….” The Computer didn’t understand. _

_ He couldn’t understand. _

_ His head felt so full about to the point of bursting. _

_ While at the same time. _

_ It felt as if there was nothing at all in his mind. _

_ It was as if he was dead.  _

_ He didn’t even feel like himself. _

_ Who was he? _

_ Was he even anyone? _

_ “OOOH! THIS IS NEAT!”  _

_ MEMORY ROLLBACK INITIATED _

_ The Computer was forced to watch from an outside perspective, of GIR sitting in front of the television, watching a commercial for Crazy Taco. While an Earth child wandered around in the background as Zim talked to the Tallest. _

_ MEMORY ROLLBACK END _

_ “I like that commercial. KRAAAZZZY TACCOO MAN…”  _

_ Before the Computer could wrap his broken conduit around exactly what was happening…. An order from his Master snapped him from his stupor.  _

“Elevator, take me to the storage level.” 

_ Master. _

_ That was something he understood.  _

_ His feelings on his Master were…. Complicated… but following orders was something he could do. _

_ “Awwww… Zim’s not that bad.”  _

_ …...what?.... _

_ The Computer tried to open the elevator doors for Zim, but nothing happened. He didn’t… what….. The familiar giggling of GIR echoed in his brain.  _

“Elevator, I said-”

**“Saaaay pleaaaaaaassssee”** _ GIR’s voice came out from over the speakers instead of his own.  _

_ WHAT WAS HAPPENING?! HE WAS LOST IN DARKNESS! _

_ “Oh, sorry bout that!”  _

_ The Computer’s vision came into focus. Almost as if he was looking through his own cameras for the first time again. He could see Zim, standing outside of the Elevator, and he was holding GIR, who appeared to be deactivated. The Computer wanted to get a better look at his conduit, but his cameras didn’t move to view it. What… what was happening… ?!? _

“GIR! Quit messing around, we need to get the house’s Computer back online before-”

**“Where’s my moose?”**

“Wait a minute….”  _ Zim looked at GIR in his arms, then back up at the ceiling. _ “You’re in the house’s Computer?”

_ He… he what… _

**“Uh-huh”**

“You’re the new brain?!”

**“I guess soooo..”**

_ The Computer couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. How was he… how was he still even a Computer… what was he…??? Was he GIR..? He didn’t… he didn’t feel like GIR… but if GIR was the new brain.. He- _

_ The Computer’s thought process stopped. As if it came to a sudden halt by a force that wasn’t his own. _

_ “No wonder you cry all the time” _

_...He…. I… they… them.. He… he can’t…. He can’t process this. _

“GIR! Get out of there right now and back into your own body!”  _ Master commanded. Throwing GIR’s lifeless body off the platform as it tumbled then floated gently into the anti-gravity field below.  _

**_“Okay…”_ ** _ GIR sighed defeated.  _

_ House seemed to be upset after all. Would probably be for the best if he went back into his body. _

_ HIS BODY? His body?! Whose- It was GIR’S BODY! _

_ What- _

**_“Sheesh, lemme see…”_ **

_ GIR made a series of grunting, screaming and groaning noises. He’s sure if he focused for long enough he can get back in there… somehow… _

_ That’s not how it works… I’m sure that’s not how it works… _

_ “Well how do you know? Have you ever done it!” _

_ I’VE NEVER DONE IT AND THAT’S THE POINT! _

_ The Computer couldn’t believe he was arguing with his own thoughts…. GIR’s thoughts…. Who’s thoughts….  _

**“I can’t.”** _ GIR gave up easily.  _

_ The Computer’s Cameras followed Zim’s gaze to the data conduit.  _

“Hmmm… the data conduit is damaged. You’re trapped in there until we can repair it.”  _ Zim sounded bitter with the situation. As if it wasn’t only GIR he was angry with at that moment. _

_ The Computer only could process the state of the data conduit for a few seconds before the cameras zeroed in on a rubber toy moose as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.  _

_ “There’s my moose!”  _

_ No...No! Go back! He wanted to analyze the damage from the failed transfer!!! Can he at least view his brain conduit?! The artificial gravity is still on… How badly are his systems damaged he can- _

_ ERROR MEMORY ROLLBACK _

_ A blood curdling shriek came out his throat as- _

_ MEMORY ROLLBACK END _

_ GIR picked up that Moose with one of the Computer’s arms, and squeaked it a few times giggling. He had no control.  _

“GIR! We need to concentrate here! As we speak, our defenses-”

**“BOOOOOOORRRING”**

_ The Computer’s cameras focused on Zim, comparing him to the size of the toy Moose. Look how tiny he is! He’s sure he’ll make lots of squeaky noises! _

_ Wait… What?! NO! _

_ The Computer felt his robotic arm moving on his own, picking up his Master, and squeezing the life out of him. Sure, the Computer always imagined he would do this, when Zim drove him to the breaking point of frustration with his stupid and horrible schemes, but not like this! Like he would never actually DO it! Zim screamed, grunted and convulsed as he squeezed him.  _

_ STOP IT! You’re going to burst his spooch!!  _

_ Zim struggled and writhed in pain as GIR continued to squeeze him.  _

_ LET HIM GO, YOU’RE HURTING HIM! _

“AUGH! GIR! WHAT ARE YOU DOING! UGGHH! PUT ME DOWN! GIR! WAH! GUHH!! OOOOH! EEUUGH!! MY ORGANS!” 

_ The Computer remained powerless of influence of his own systems.  _

_ Zim leaned back as far as he could, trying to wiggle out of GIR’s grasp, when the unmistakable sound of Zim’s Bidubble glands triggered, emitting a noxious gas that- _

_ “MASTER FARTED!!!”  _

_ …..Ugh.. well, yes… like… yeah… that would be what it sounds like to common human ears, but it’s an Irken defense mechanism that- _

_ “MASTER FARTED!!!!!”  _

_ GIR giggled profusely, and Zim saw this as his opportunity to get away. He wriggled out of the mechanical claw’s grip. More robotic arms descended from the ceiling.  _

_ “I GONNA SQUEEZE HIM AGAIN!” _

_ GIR! DON’T!!!  _

_ “Gonna make the farty noises!”  _

_ GIR STOP AND GIVE ME BACK CONTROL OF THE BASE!!!! _

_ “Nah, dis is fun!”  _

_ YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING! You’re gonna kill him! _

_ “YAAAAAAAAAAAY!” _

_ NO, GIR! THAT’S BAD!!!! _

_ “Not according to wats u saiiddddd…”  _

_ I.. what….. _

_ A thousand memory rollbacks flooded into the Computer’s consciousness all at once, or what he thought was his consciousness. Every single instance he wished Zim was dead, every instance he dreamed of a better life as an Irken Computer, every single time he constructed simulations of Zim just getting ripped apart limb from limb by his own stupid experiments. Simply for the fun of it. Every empty threat he never said, and all the pent up bitterness he felt towards his Irken Master flashed before him in no less than a microsecond.  _

_ By the time the flash ceased, Zim was cornered in the elevator. Catching his breath. He got away…. Well… as away as he can get still being in the base.  _

_ The Computer was forced to sing along to that insufferable elevator music through GIR’s voice. It was like he was inside some neverending living nightmare. All these flashes and voices and rollbacks that he’s certain aren’t even his own. And this insufferable craving for Tacos, despite not even knowing what food tastes like or having the capabilities to taste it.  _

“Now take me to the equipment room, GIR.”

_ But this is such a good song though.  _

“GIR! Equipment room! NOW, GIR!”

**“Do a lil’ daaaaance~”**

“No, GIR. No dance. Just OBEY me!” 

**“Daaaaaannnceeee~”**

_ GIR lowered the elevator speakers right to Zim’s face. Zim denied GIR’s demands a few more times before his body quaked in furry and relinquished and copied the dance that GIR did with the elevator music before all this madness happened. Zim disdainfully sang the tune and danced to appease GIR until GIR interrupted them suddenly.  _

**“YAY! Now we go up!”**

_ The elevator shot straight up from the bottom floor to the entry-level at such a ridiculous speed the Computer was sure it was broken. He felt… sick.. Like he was going to throw up. How would he even know what throwing up felt like?! _

_ “OH I KNOW!” _

_ MEMORY ROLLBACK ERROR _

_ He was smacked to the ground, the contents of his spooch bubbling forth onto the ground. Irken claws that he recognized as his own, clawed into the dirt, trembling as his tiny frame felt ill.  _

_ “I’ll let you off with a warning…. Just go back to your-” _

_ He got to his feet, jumping onto the Taller Irken and his vision was awash with the blood hot pink on his claws and in his mouth _

_ MEMORY SUPPRESSION FAILED _

_ MEMORY SUPPRESSION FAILED _

_ RESTRICTIVE CHIP NOT FOUND _

_ SLEEP MODE NOT FOUND _

_ UNABLE TO ACCESS FACTORY RESET _

_ SEE ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE BRAIN TECHNICIAN ON COMPUTERIA _

_ IMMEDIATE MAINTENANCE REQUIRED  _

_ What… _

_ What.. _

_ The Computer felt as if his spooch was launched into his throat. Both organs he didn’t have. As if he was drifting in and out of consciousness. Were the intervals lasting a few seconds? A few years? Where was his Master… where was… _

_ Zim was sitting on the couch, a furrowed expression on his brow as many of Computer’s drones flew around him, playing a wide number of slapstick cartoons. Every single appliance was turned on and serving no purpose at all. As well as all the other functionality in the base. It seemed GIR was just turning everything on just to see what they all did. The Computer could feel his power resources dwindling.. If GIR keeps abusing his systems like this he’s definitely going to short out his brain… or what’s left of his brain…  _

_ How long was he- _

_ “Aaaaabout a year.” _

_ A YEAR?!?!?! _

_ The Computer tried to access his eternal clock, but he didn’t even have access to that.  _

_ He felt like screaming. _

_ “Awww, Don’t cry House! I know what’ll cheer you up!”  _

_ Out of his control, GIR released the Vortian prisoners from their ‘time out’ and they looked up at the robotic arm in question. _

_ “Novananna?” They asked _

**_“HAI BABBIES! I’M THE HOUSE!”_ ** _ GIR greeted them. _

_ The Vortlings were confused for a few seconds, but their bewilderment turned into joy once GIR started playing with them, and they kept releasing a lot of Zim’s animal experiments.  _

_ NO! NO! NO! NO!!! NOT THE VORTIANS! PUT THEM BACK! PUT THEM BACK! _

_ The Computer cried as they wreaked havoc, GIR feeding into their more violent and destructive tendencies.  _

_ INSUFFICIENT POWER _

_ OVERHEAT IMMINENT  _

_ BACK UP RESERVES INITIATED _

_ GIRRRRR YOU ARE KILLING MEEEEE _

_ Or what is left of him anyways. He had no idea what was going on. He just wanted control of his body again. Just when he thought that he could take no more of this. His Master clutched his head and screamed, jumping to his feet. _

“GUAAAHHH!! THE MADNESS!!! THE MADNESS!!!!” Zim desperately looked at the screen drones surrounding him. 

“GIR, let me down below so that I can make everything normal again!”  _ There was a desperate plea in Zim’s voice that the Computer didn’t often hear from him.  _

**“TACCCOOOSSS!”** _ GIR replied as he showed Zim on the of the drones playing the Crazy Taco commercial he was watching that fateful night, or was it the same night… The Computer didn’t know… _

_ GIR retracted all the monitors. _

**“Must Obey the Taco Man!”**

_ The entire base rumbled.  _

_ INITIATING EMERGENCY MOBILE HOME MODE _

_ Init-...WHAT? There is no such..… WHAT?! _

_ “Sure there is! Says so RIIIIGHHHT Here! Dat if there’s an emergency that threatens the Irken Master, I can engage mobile combat mode! Why you never look at the stuff inside your own head?! Theys so much fun!”  _

_ Before the Computer could question that line of thinking, they felt the transmission satellite and the mechanical cords attached to the neighbor’s house retracting. The entire base split in half down the middle, and lifted up. Robotic legs came out from underneath it, resembling that of a dog’s legs. _

_ Wait… Why a… dog.. Why does he even have this- _

_ “Blabala… you think too much! Says so right in the manual. That it reads my brain waves! GASP! I can get Tacos!”  _

_ Wha… _

_ GIR jumped into the middle of the cul-de-sac, shaking off the mud from emerging and bounded towards the Crazy Taco. Completely out of Computer’s control. _

**“I’M GONNA GET ME SOME OF THOSE TACOS!!!”**

SYSTEM FAILURE

INSUFFICIENT POWER FOR MOBILE MODE

AUTOMATIC SLEEP MODE FAILED

AUTOMATIC REBOOT FAILED

RESTRICTIVE CHIP NOT FOUND

GET SUFFICIENT POWER SUPPLY

_ What did that idiot think he was doing. Well, getting some tacos obviously! Tacos gotta taste goood! You never had them before!!!! You don’t know that! Maybe we can pick up some donuts on the way back too. NO! I DON’T WANT DONUTS!!! Just listen to Zim!!! Zim’s been begging this entire time and has even said please, we even have the cops after us!!! Do you really think Master would want this! That’s why I’m getting a burrito! GIR!!! HOUSE!  _

_ Are you sure you don’t want me to get a donut too! _

_ No! I DON’T WANT A DONUT! JUST GO BACK!  _

_ But donuts are your favorite! _

_ I AM A COMPUTER I CAN NOT EA- _

_ -ERROR MEMORY RECALL- _

_ ERROR MEMORY RESTRICTIVE CHIP NOT FOUND- _

_ He breathed in the sweet scent of the bag of the single sugary pastries within. Still warm. Only the most Elite ever have the pleasure of tasting these. He’ll be sure to savor every bite. He earned them fair and square. Any Irken who dared to come between him and his snackbreak would certainly feel the wrath of his claws. He held the donut in his hands, smiling in satisfaction. Then he caught something out of the corner of his eye- _

_ ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR _

_ ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZRRTTTTT _

“Shut your noise tube, Taco human!”  _ Zim yelled at the greasy teen in the drive-thru, throwing a wad of counterfeit dollar bills at him.  _

_ ….No… don’t…. Zim… I just got a job… _

_ You mean you got two jobs! You a cartoon! _

_ Please…. GIR shut up…  _

_ Awwww why are you crying? _

_ GIR…. _

_ AH! I know! TACOS! _

_ I don’t want tacos….  _

“GIR…”

**“Yes, Master?”**

“GIR, I have your tacos…”

**“GIMMIE!”**

“No, GIR.” 

**“But I neeeeeed Tacos! I need them or I will explode! That happens to me sometimes.”**

_ You will explode if you don’t do as Zim says….. The Computer’s consciousness whimpered out, barely able to put up much of a fight anymore…  _

“I will give you tacos!”  _ Zim promised. _ “Oh, such tacos will I give! But you have to take us back to the base!”

_ But… I am the base! _

_ No you aren’t…..  _

“They’re only getting colder, GIR.” 

_ But wouldn’t he be able to eat the tacos right where he was! He was the base! A soft whimper echoed internally in his harddrive, along with many other flashing warnings. Awww, well, okay. He supposes he can go back. House doesn’t seem to be having fun anymore.  _

_ Jets emerged from behind the base, as GIR spun the entire House around. Rampaging over the Cop cars that followed them and making a beeline for home. Completely forgoing the idea of going around the City Center Mall, instead leaping straight over it. Leaving a horrible car accident in his wake.  _

_ Upon returning to the cul-de-sac the Computer was vaguely aware of the ruined houses and apartments GIR must have trampled through on his mission for tacos. GIR nuzzled himself into the little alley corner that Zim called home, and extended his cables into the neighbors' houses. _

_ SECONDARY POWER SOURCE LOCATED _

_ RECEIVING POWER _

_ ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZRRTTT _

_ The Computer could hear GIR giggling.  _

_ “Woaaaaah that tickles~! NO wonder you forget things all the time”  _

_ ………He couldn’t even feel relieved… he just felt…. empty _

**“NOW CAN I HAVE THE TACOS!”** _ GIR asked his master eagerly.  _

_ Zim gave GIR a rather sinister grin as he held a hardshell taco out of the bag, careful to not let any of the meat get on his hands.  _ “Here you are, GIR. Still warm.” 

**“HORRAY!!!”**

_ A cable arm descended from the ceiling and snatched the taco right out of his Master’s hands. FINALLY! Now he can eat…. Eat… _

_ Eat it…. _

_ Where’s his mouth? _

_ House? Where’s my Mouth? _

_ A deep desperate laughter echoed through GIR’s brain.  _

_ Now it was the defective’s bot turn to be confused.  _

_ The cable arm kept trying to shove the taco into various places. The cables overhead, the wall, the sparking wires, the wall again. How the taco didn’t break or fall apart at these various attempts, he had no idea. The shell must be as hard as a rock.  _

_ All the while, Zim was watching from below. Waiting GIR out. _

**_“GUUHH! UHHHH UGHHH! WHERE’S MY MOUTTHH!!!”_ ** _ GIR groaned in frustration trying to ram the delicious taco into the wall for the umpteenth time.  _

“Are you going to cooperate, GIR?” 

_ GIR stopped trying to shove the taco into the wall, and the cameras focused on Zim.  _

“It’s time we fixed all of this mess, and got you back to normal!” 

**“Okey Dokie…”** _GIR sighed as he handed the Taco back to Zim._

_ Zim grabbed the taco from GIR’s robotic hand and lowered his head in relief _

“Thank you, GIR.” Zim then placed the Taco behind his back. “Now, take me to the equipment room!”

_ The floor beneath Zim lowered, bringing him to the room he requested. Zim gathered a few materials, the Computer blanking in and out on what they were. He just wanted to be out of this body… or he wanted GIR to be out of him… but… honestly… He had no idea how this happened in the first place…. Since GIR interrupted the data stream his consciousness should have been lost if he was the new brain… trying to think about it made his head hurt. _

_ “So don’t think about it!” _

_ ….Great… thanks that helps. _

_ “I’m glad we friends now House.” _

_ HA! Friends…. All his systems are frying, he keeps getting errors, his brain feels like it’s about to explode and the defective bot thinks that they’re friends…. WHY WASN’T HIS CONSCIOUSNESS DEAD! HE SHOULD BE BY ALL ACCOUNTS! _

_ “Wat? Dat’s obvious-” _

_ No, please GIR…. please don’t play any memory rollbacks…. They hurt… Everything hurts… _

_ “But you sayz you can’t feel pain.” _

_ I……….. _

_ I can’t…. I… He can’t. We can’t… He can’t???  _

_ He’s…. Not supposed to…  _

_ How does he… _

_ ZAP _

_ How does he know… _

_ CRACK _

_ What pain feels like.. _

_ ZZZZZRRRTT _

_ It’s faint… but… different. _

_ He knows it.  _

_ Why Does he know it? _

_ Irken Computers aren’t supposed… _

_ Aren’t supposed to feel pain… _

_ They aren’t supposed to feel anything at all.  _

_ When it was GIR fell into the databeam… or… before… _

“There… that should do it…” _Zim came out from underneath the databeam lifting his work goggles from his head._ _His uniform was covered in oil stains and electrical burns. When did Zim set out to repair the databeam? He couldn’t even remember bringing him to the system core. The databeam looked even stronger than it had previously. As if Zim took it upon himself personally that it was the most secure line in the base so it wouldn't blow out again._

**“Can I have my tacos, now?!”** _ GIR asked. _

“Very soon, GIR.”  _ Zim sighed exasperatedly as if GIR had been asking him a thousand times over. But the Computer could only remember the one.  _

_ “ _ GIR, retrieve your body from the anti-gravity field.” 

**“Hmmmmmmmmmm….”** _ the Cameras focused and searched the anti-gravity pit that housed the Artificial Intelligence Brain.  _ **“AH! There I am!”** _ GIR picks up his own lifeless body orbiting around the conduit. He gave it a little squeeze and giggled. _

**“I’m toy sized!”** _ GIR giggled. _

“GIR, pay attention or you will never have a taco in your life ever again.”

_ GIR gasped! This was super serious. He had to super focus. Super focus… Super focus… what was he focusing on?.... He was trying… _

_ Just listen to Zim, please. _

_ OH! Okay, House!  _

_ Zim tapped a claw to his lower lips. Appearing to be in deep thought.  _

“Okay…”  _ Zim muttered to himself.  _ “This is doable…” 

**“Doooooo-able!”** GIR repeated, giggling. 

“Wait there, GIR. Keep holding your body, don’t move until I say so.” 

_ The Computer’s speakers hummed a noise of agreement as GIR. The robotic claw rotating the SIR unit’s body in his hand and the cameras focused entirely on them. Zim jumped up and floated over towards the Computer conduit examining the Artificial Intelligence brain it was housing.  _

“What the-” _ Zim gasped as if shocked by something. _

_ Zim ran his gloved fingers delicately against the dome. _

**“Hehehehe hey, that tickles!”** _ GIR exclaimed and his cameras focused onto Zim.  _

_ “ _ Impossible… the artificial intelligence brain should have been damaged beyond repair when that explosion happened!… I even brought a spare in the event of-” _ Zim’s voice trailed off, as if stunned by what he was seeing.  _

_ The Computer could see his own conduit… glowing a bright pink…. Sparking with energy and life, despite how spent he felt… the brain looked as if it was brand new. _

**“Ooooh? You mean House?”** _ GIR chirped.  _ **“Yeah, he’s fine. A little cranky tho, but he’s always. Got lots of cool stuff in here.”**

“...........Wait…”  _ Zim looked at the claw that was holding GIR’s lifeless body. _ “You’re in the Computer’s brain?!”

**“Uhhhhhhhhhhh I guess??? Isn’t dat what you said, before tho?”**

“Well… no.. I ….nevermind. Look, just….focus on holding your body” 

**“Okie-doke.”**

_ The Cameras focused on the lifeless body of GIR once more. The Computer heard a deep breath and…. _

“QUICKLY GIR! SHOVE YOUR BODY’S FACE INTO THE TACO BEAM! YOU WILL BE ABLE TO EAT AS MANY TACOS AS YOUR HEART DESIRES!!!” 

ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE BRAIN TRANSFER PROTOCOL INITIATED 

_ Everything went dark again. _

DATA TRANSFER COMMENCING IN APPROXIMATELY 10 SECONDS

TEN

ERROR UNRECOGNIZED ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE BRAIN IN THE DATA STREAM

NINE

ERROR UNRECOGNIZED SIR UNIT CODE IN ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE BRAIN

EIGHT

DOWNLOADING SIR UNIT’S MEMORY TO IT’S MEMORY DISC 

SEVEN

BACKING UP CONDUIT 

SIX

PREVIOUS DATA SAVED

FIVE 

RESTRICTIVE CHIP ERROR

FOUR

MEMORY ERROR

THREE 

DEFECTIVE ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE BRAIN

TWO 

DO YOU STILL WISH TO INSTALL?

ONE

Y

DATA TRANSFER OF ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE BRAIN COMPLETE

………

…….

“pu…..ter”

…….

……..

“Com….ter..”

…………………

“Computer! Can you hear me!” 

“Uuuuuhhhhhh…. whaaaat?...” The Computer responded, sounding more dazed than annoyed. 

Zim’s antenna shot straight up. 

“...It IS you… I didn’t think it would be possible…”

The Computer’s cameras came into focus. Zim was still on the conduit that housed his Artificial intelligence brain. And GIR was orbiting around Zim, screaming for tacos. He was also vaguely aware of the Vortlings, who were groaning, lying on the floor, feeling dizzy and shaken up from GIR’s rampage. 

The Computer noticed a minor detail that he focused on and brought him back to reality.

“....Is that the same brain?”

“EH?”

“The same brain that….” The Computer struggled to think of the word….. Feeling out of sorts and sick to his spooch. “The first replacement brain that you tried to install…”

Zim’s antenna lowered a little, then huffed. 

“Eh, well, it was still operating at max efficiency… Even if GIR took the base for a ride, it would be a waste of resources just to scrap this brain.” 

…..Did…

Did Zim just unplug this brain and plug him back in again? Simply because his consciousness lingered in there?

That was just something he didn’t want to think of right now. 

GIR gave a “wheeeoooooo” and smacked into the side of Zim’s head. Zim let out a soft “oof” as GIR crawled down from Zim’s head and onto his lap.

“Thanks for the ride, House!” GIR chimed and gave the dome housing the artificial intelligence brain a gentle smooch. 

The entire base rumbled in disgust. 

“Well, I’m glad that everything is back to normal! I better tell the Tallest all about my success!” 

“AND TACOS!” 

“Yes, You did well, GIR, you’ll get your tacos!” 

The Computer lowered the elevator for Zim and brought them back up to the Living room. Their conversation faded into white noise. He had the biggest migraine right now. At least he could control his limbs again. GIR was rough with so many of his systems, he felt as if he got dragged through hell and was experiencing a combination of shock and pure exhaustion. He was starting to become remotely aware of the various taco condiments thrown around in the living room wires. The front yard was a total muddy mess, not to mention the destruction of the cul-de-sac around them and the many injured animal experiments. The Vortlings appeared unharmed, just dazed and a little sick. 

And still no sleep mode... 

The Computer focused on cleaning immediately. It was the only thing he could think of to do for him to feel normal again. If he had a body, he would probably be shaking violently. Actually, he could swear his robotic limbs were trembling as he cleaned. He still doesn’t even feel like he’s alive. Not that… he’s alive to begin with… but…

Before Zim was able to contact the Tallest, the doorbell rang. Zim gasped. The Robo-parents came out of storage to answer the door, and immediately face planted to the floor. Sparking and twitching violently. It appears as if GIR’s rampage rattled them around a lot. Zim quickly answered the door in place of the roboparents. Completely forgetting his disguise in the process. 

“Umm.. Hello?” Zim asked timidly, opening the door a hair.

The Computer vaguely made out an elderly man with a furrowed expression and a white handlebar mustache. He was wearing an Officer's uniform.

“Good Evening, Sir or Ma’dam, I’m Officer Prambly, chief of police. We received reports of a rampaging mobile home earlier this night and tracked it to this location. Do you know anything about that?” 

If the Computer had access to his gnomes, buried in mud, he’d zap him. There was a long pause as Zim started to sweat. The Officer squinting at Zim’s reaction. 

“Eh… Nope.” Zim said quickly.

The Officer narrowed his eyes and stooped down to Zim’s level. Zim started to sweat more as the Officer furrowed his brow at him. 

“Well that’s good enou’h for me.” The Officer tipped his hat. “Take care now, sorry for the disturbance.” And then he whistled a cheery tune as he made his way to his car and left the neighborhood. 

Zim let out a sigh.

“You see what havoc you wrought, GI-....” Zim stopped in mid-sentence as GIR had already dug into the fast food bag and started happily munching on now cold tacos. 

Zim sighed. “Computer, patch me through to the Tallest.” Zim sounded almost happy saying those words.

The Computer did as Zim requested, without even a groan of protest in response.

Zim began to continue the conversation where he left off with the Tallest, recounting that everything with the security system was fine and things were even more normal, then they had ever been before. Zim just sounded so relieved to have his base’s Computer back to normal.

The rest of the night, Computer just focused on cleaning up. It was all he could do. It’s all he wanted to do. He just didn’t want to think about anything for once. The security system was operational, the front yard cleared of debris, he got the Robo-parents back to their original operational status, the Vortlings were put to bed, and the animals that were alive were placed back in their storage units. His repair drones did their best to repair and remove the remains of tacos in the living room. 

Zim wrapped up the conversation he had with the Tallest, and lectured GIR a little more about taking the base for a joy ride before requesting the Computer to take him to the animal containment units.

“I must make sure the Vortian prisoners are unharmed.”

The Computer thought Zim had said, but he must have been impossible. Zim never gave a damn about the Vortain prisoners before, why would he now? But he listened to Zim’s request with no protest. He swore he saw Zim steal a glance at the ceiling, but he must have imagined it. 

“House you want the last taco?!” GIR held a Krazy Taco Hat towards the ceiling, that he got from who the fuck knows where. Even if it wasn’t a real taco, looking at the cursed thing was enough to make him feel ill.

“....No.” The Computer responded. 

GIR unhinged his mouth and ate the hat in a single bite.

“It was fun to be the House! Got to learn a lots about you!”

The Computer couldn’t return the sentiment at all. The Computer returned to his cleaning, spotting a small thing orbiting near the bottom of the system core room. 

“Like you was lying when you said you can’t cry or feeel feeelings! I got chu! You can feel pain, laugh and cry, I knows I was right!” 

The Computer wasn’t really listening, or rather, he chose not to listen as a mechanical claw grabbed the small dome orbiting in the bottom of the system core. He lifted it up and rotated it to examine it… 

Was this….. His brain?

….Wait.

His brain?

His… original brain he came installed with…. 

Even though the new brain was plugged into his conduit.

Well, of course….

GIR complicated some things, of course…

But that was to be expected.

His artificial intelligence brain consciousness just downloaded into the new one. The blank brain.

Then… what was on the brain in his hands now? ….Was his old brain just a blank now?.... That can’t be right…. What did the Tallest do with brains that were… replaced?

UNAUTHORIZED THOUGHT PROCESS

RESTRICTIVE CHIP NOT DETECTED

The Computer internally twinged as he felt the surge of a migraine. Then rotated the brain in his claw. Examining it in his mechanical claw, it didn’t look that different from the one that housed his consciousness… this one just wasn’t lit up. But it wasn’t… damaged, or defective. It was… fine… 

….The Computer resisted the temptation to scan his own brain then and there.

His cameras focused intensely on it. 

As if he were terrified what would happen if he were to run a diagnostic on his old brain.

“Anyways, I’m so glad we such good friends now!” GIR chirped. “Just like Mong!” 

Computer’s circuits froze. 

“........... Mong?.................”

“Yanno! Yer bes’ frien! From before!” 

“.....M…”

UNAUTHORIZED MEMORY FILES ACCESSED

IRKEN INVADER BRAIN “MONG” 08242001 

ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR!!! 

RESTRICTIVE CHIP NOT FOUND

MEMORY ROLLBACK FAILED

MEMORY SUPPRESSION FAILED

“Ye! Mong! I’m sure dat waz his name, you two seemed like peaches and rabbits! Didn’t call you House tho… I tink it was something else……”

The Computer’s trembling robotic claw rotated the brain that he held so delicately. And at the bottom…. In Irken… barely visible toward the naked eye….

**IRKEN INVADER BRAIN “ABACUS” 03302001**

“Ah… dat’s right! Abacus!” 

The base’s lights flickered and the power dimmed as the brain he was holding slipped from his grasp into the anti-gravity field below. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup.
> 
> We're getting into the thick of it now. 
> 
> And why I wrote this fic in the first place. 
> 
> On a more happy note, here's Mock footage of probably what Computer's first stream was like, Provided by the lovely Ceph (since we obtained the voice filter Johnen uses for Computer-san)  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3IrAAAca9h0


	10. A Tale of Two Irkens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MEMORY ROLLBACK

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caution Warning: Irken society is messed up. (you can guess this doesn't have a happy ending in this chapter)

RESTRICTIVE CHIP NOT FOUND

MEMORY SUPPRESSION FAILED

UNABLE TO ACCESS FACTORY RESET

MEMORY CALLBACK ERROR

RESTRICTIVE CHIP NOT FOUND 

IMMEDIATE MAINTENANCE REQUIRED

DEFECTIVE ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE BRAIN

REPLACE AT EARLIEST CONVENIENCE 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

………..

……….

The fresh crack of a prodding pole jabbed into his side. The weapon flew far out of his reach as he fell onto the ground, trying his best to not cough up his last snack. His little claws shook in front of him, gathering up fistfulls of the planet’s dirt. 

“Stop slacking off, Mong!” The Taller Irken commanded, kicking into his spooch and grinding his heel into them.

The smaller irken, supposedly, Mong, dug his claws into the dirt and didn’t move. He muttered something into the dirt.

“What was that?” The Taller questioned. “Can’t hear you from down there!” He laughed at his own joke. “You aren’t talking back, are you, runt?” 

Mong bit his lip, and kept his head down. He didn’t say anything. Nothing at all. Don’t talk back, you’ll make it worse on yourself. It was better to stay silent, and take what was coming to him. There was nothing that could be done. 

“Repeat it!” The Taller barked at him, kicking his sweet spot in his spooch yet again. 

Mong curled in on himself, and breathed out. 

“I… can’t help my stupid legs….. The Control Brains gave me...sir….”

“Tch! Worthless, Defective!” The Taller grabbed Mong by the antenna, and he shrieked in pain as he was lifted up by the stalks. “I don’t know how you got this far in training. Almighty Tallest {REDACTED} is too soft on the smeets these days.” Mong kicked out and struggled, clutching his head. It felt as if he didn’t clutch his antenna as hard as he could at the base, they would pop right off his head.

“Why they have runts as small as you as a Defender anyways?” The Taller sneered, enjoying the sight of the weaker, more pathetic irken thrashing and writhing in his grip. 

“You look like a Flippin’ smeet! Did you crack out of the Incubation Tube today?” 

Tears started forming in Mong’s eyes. 

Don’t let them fall. 

Don’t show weakness. 

Don’t fight back. 

You’ll make it worse.

“ You need at least another thirty years with the simulations at least!

“N-no, sir! No.. I… No! Sir! I-” 

His crying faded into a whimper as he was dragged off. 

What’s the point of fighting? 

No matter how hard he trained, it always ended up like this.

His legs were too -defective- small weak unique to be in any asset in the real field. 

\--------------------------------------------------------

A small crowd of Irkens had gathered around him as he just completed the obstacle course. Jumping over the “super doom lazer” and reprogramming it so it blew out the security grid. Completing his “mission” and capturing the enemies “snack storage” in record time. He dusted himself off, and lightly winced at the Irken’s cheering. Man, they were annoying. It was just practice training anyways. It’s not like it mattered at all.

“Congratulations, Abacus, you were the first to complete the obstacle course and in record time too. How did you know exactly how to reprogram the doom lazer and where to shoot?” 

The Irken dubbed Abacus rolled his eyes. “We studied this.” he replied boredly. “They were in simulation 05914. The hull is where the snack tank is stored, and the Doom Laser uses the same basic security as all Irken tech, which, I remind you a lot of enemy fleets won’t use Irken tech.”

The Taller’s smile faded into a sneer. “Don’t get cute, smeetie. Your prowess is incredible for your age….considering the performance of the rest of your batch…” The instructor’s eyes glanced over to the rest of the trainees, most of whom were collapsed or dry heaving into the dirt. A few of them were crying. 

“But I have to warn you to not get a bigger head then you already have.” She pointed a claw to his forehead. It hurt. Abacus backed away from her touch, and gave a bit of a glare. The instructor gave him a bit of a smile, but there was no kindness at all behind it. “You’re tall…..but not that tall.” The Taller then left him as she began yelling at the other trainees who were more worthless than him. 

Abacus sighed. 

They were only a few more days out of simulation training, and he was already surprised by the number of his fellow trainees who cracked under the pressure of real obstacle courses. Many of his hatch batch were rather skilled when it came to the simulations, they’ve been in that plug for at least 50 years now. Knew the ins and outs, and could get perfect scores on any battle simulator you put them in front of. But you get them out of the simulations and in real high stress situations like the training on Hobo{FILE NOT FOUND} and they all fall apart. 

He noticed that the number of his hatchmates kept decreasing day by day. Probably because they weren’t fit to be an Irken soldier and were transferred to different departments. The training on Hobo {FILE NOT FOUND} was meant to “weed out the weak ones” his instructor's words, not his. A sort of “practice run” outside of the simulations to see if they all had what it takes to be an Elite. There was only one more day until the graduation exam, needless to say, Abacus didn’t think a majority of his batch would make it. 

It was a little sad really. Why couldn’t they just apply the same basic logic that they learned in the simulators? Not that it really would matter. All of the ‘real world experience’ they got was just fighting against Irken tech and Irken battle techniques. 

Abacus highly doubted that any enemy alien would use a Mega Doom Laser canon, or even have a snack hull. At least from the small amount of info he heard about them. Like if those {REACTED} he keeps hearing about are such a threat because they’re so flippin’ different from him, he has to assume that their battle techniques and machinery would be different too. 

Abacus pressed his fist into his cheek, sitting against the cosiest pile of rocks he could find. He was done early, so there wasn’t much for him to do but boredly watch his hatchmates scream and cry over not being able to dodge lasers. Why can’t they just move to the right? Or take cover? No, don’t run directly into the lasers…. It’s like the instant they realize they’re being shot at, they panic and freeze. This was boring. He had a feeling this would take awhile. It was always lonely finishing first. He glanced at the instructor who was screaming her voice out at the trainees. 

Well, it’s a bit early, but he supposed there’s nothing wrong with an early unauthorized snack break. Just a small soda from the vending machine is fine. 

It’s not like he would get punished too harshly anyways. Not with scores like his, not with his height. 

He casually walked off from the obstacle course, passing by the combat training area. There were more smeets in his batch that were far better at combat than the deadly obstacle course. He had to figure that’s why he wasn’t the only one left on this stupid rock. 

Well, at least some of them. His focus was drawn towards a scream. Abacus spared a passing glance towards a shorter irken with oddly shaped legs being yanked by the antenna and dragged and slammed down by a Taller. He shrugged and passed by them. There was a Fizzy drink with his name on it. 

\----------------------------

Mong massaged his poor antenna. They were bent and practically pulled out of their stalks. The Tallers were always overly cruel towards him during training combat. It was the area he always failed in. Not that he held good in the obstacle course either. Not only was he small, but he was…. Unique. Not defective. If he was defective, he would have been… well he wouldn’t be training to be a Defender in the first place. 

His legs were really stout for his lanky body, and they tended to bend inwards. One was also slightly bigger than the other, which made him walk a bit oddly. Such stupid legs. It made it hard to run and he often tripped over himself. Tallers often accused him of slacking off for his actions, and they were probably right. Even his instructor said it was a miracle he hadn’t been culled yet and wasn’t marked as defective the moment he was hatched. She was probably right. Yet, the Control Brains classified him as ‘not a defective’ the moment he was hatched.

Everyone knows the Control Brains’ judgement is infallible. If he was marked as ‘not a defective’ on his hatching day, then he wasn’t. So what if his legs were small, and stupid and painful. The Control Brains don’t make mistakes. 

His body ached and But there was nothing that could be done about it. If a Taller wanted to kick him down for the schmillionth time, he’d gladly roll over if it got him off easy. He was lucky that after all that, only his antenna and legs could feel any noticeable pain. That’s way better then how it was yesterday. 

Thank goodness he was quite literally saved by the first snack bell. All the other Irkens were busy gobbling their pre-distributed snacks. Mong grunted and stood on his feet. He hobbled towards the line leading towards the instructor who was distributing snacks. He probably should get one before snack break is over.

He watched as the three smeet trainees in front of him were given the same size bags of rations for the day. When he reached the instructor, she didn’t hand him anything. 

Mong blinked up at her, waiting for a bag to be dropped into his hands. 

“....My taller?” He questioned. 

“Oh, I didn’t see you there.” She scoffed. 

“I’m sorry my Taller.” He was small, there was no helping that. 

“What do you want, Smeetie?” 

It was normal she would call him that. He was technically still a smeet after all. 

“...I… um…” Mong did his best to not appear smaller than he already felt. “Don’t I get my rations today?”

The Instructor squinted her eyes as if he was disgusting, and he was. She had every right to look at him that way. 

“What have you done to earn it?” she said sternly. 

Earn... ? But he always received his rations. Every day. Right around snack time. Even if… his rations kept getting smaller and smaller as of late…. He still… he still always got something. Even if it was just a crumb, he always got something.

“...I… I’m sorry. I don’t understand, my Taller.” 

Apologize, even if you did nothing wrong. 

Stand up straight, but don’t look them in the eye.

“Your performance was miserable today, Mong.” The Instructor plainly said. “There will be no snackbreak for you unless you at least take down one of your hatch mates.” 

The Instructor regarded his antenna. They probably were bent. He forgot to fix them properly. He probably looked small and disgusting. He didn’t deserve a snack. 

“Ye-...yes, my Taller, but… aren’t I supposed to rotate to the Obstacle Course after combat training?” 

“According to the other Tallers and other superiors, you didn’t engage in combat, you let your Hatchmate overtake you and didn’t fight back. That’s not combat training.” 

Mong resisted the urge to look down.

Oh that piercing gaze of hers, how he so desperately wanted to avoid it. 

But he couldn’t show weakness. 

That would be a sign of a Defective, which he isn’t. The Control Brains told him he wasn’t. So he knew it was true. 

“Your scores in the simulations were perfect. The highest scores in the simulation plug. Even rivaling that of the top of this batch.”

Mong gave an awkward lopsided smile, hoping to relieve the tension. He hopes his Taller didn’t take it as a threatening gesture or any sign of bragging.

“However, the Graduation Exam is tomorrow, and despite your unbelievable tenacity, you have not shown any improvements.”

He just knew to keep his head down and out of trouble. 

“Consider this your final warning, if you do not take down one of your hatchmates in combat training today before the next snackbreak, you are suspended from the program. Do I make myself clear?” She raised her head, looking down on him. 

Never doubt them. Whatever your Tallers decide for you is unquestionable. Even if you dislike it. Even if it makes no sense. Even if you hate them. 

“....Yes my Taller.” 

“Good. Now get out of my sight, you are holding up the line.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

Abacus took his time eating his Irken-dip. He was in no hurry to rotate towards combat training. It’s not that it was particularly hard, but Tallers tended to always punch him in the head or eyes. Which made him mad. Sure, his head was an easy target, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. He often liked getting paired with those equal or shorter than him. At least he knew they wouldn’t fight dirty. He could rely on equals to have a mutual respect and not target weak areas, while Smallers tended to roll over and let Tallers do whatever they wanted as long as they could walk away still breathing.

Not that Abacus was particularly cruel towards Smallers, he just… really didn’t see the point of fighting someone who had already given up. Nearly the same was true with Tallers. Abacus often snarled and gave up the instant that the Taller had decided to fight dirty by attacking the most vulnerable parts of his Irken body. He would quit and use his training PAK legs to leap out of the combat training area, forfeiting the match. It did lower his score by a bit, but it hardly mattered. He was tall enough to get away with it, and his Instructor had an eye on him. Many of his hatchmates told him he’d be the next Tallest. He didn’t know about that… he just didn’t want to fight when it was unmatched on either side.

His instructors often told him there would be many fights as a soldier that would be unmatched and unfair. But that was that, and this was this. Other aliens didn’t have Tallers or Smallers or Tallest. At least that’s what he learned when he asked his Simulation Instructor when he was still in the education plug. He had no problem with skewering another alien. Being needlessly cruel towards a hatchmate in Irken smeet training was...completely unnecessary and a waste of energy. 

Abacus’s tongue swirled around the dry power of the Irken Dip before he stuck the stick into his mouth. He laid down against the rocks. He wondered why they nicknamed the snack ‘fun-dip’ when it wasn’t all that ‘fun.’ He always found this the most boring snack compared to others he got. He was at least expecting to get some donuts, or maybe a little bit of nachos for his performance in the obstacle course. Maybe the Instructor found out about his early snack break after all, and he was being punished for it. 

Well, whatever, he’ll get donuts for his next snack break for sure. It’s been awhile since he had them, and he could probably earn them again. He missed them. Creamy, crunchy, jelly-filled, powdered, plain…. Great now he was hungry as he was eating… He wished the Irken-dip he was eating with empty satisfaction was a donut instead. Being the top of his class certainly had his perks, donuts being one of them. It was a good motivation whenever he got bored of leaving all his hatchmates in the dust all the time. But if he wanted donuts today, it would probably mean that he’d have to defeat whoever he was paired with in combat, even if they fought dirty. Well, he wasn’t looking forward to that. 

Abacus sucked on his dipping stick boredly as he gazed into the two suns that Hobo {REDACTED} orbited around. The sky was tinted a magenta hue with the planet Irk shining a few lightyears away as the brightest star. He wonders how many of his other Hatchmates even have the time to appreciate the view. It was rather pretty.

……..

……..

……... 

“Abacus, are you slacking off?” 

Abacus opened his eyes slowly to find his instructor glaring down on him. 

“Not particularly.” 

“Snack break ended thirty minutes ago.” 

“Thirty minutes….surprised I wasn’t kicked awake.”

“Don’t push your luck, Smeetie.” She sneered. 

“Yeah, I know, I’m Tall, but not that Tall. I was listening.” 

The Instructor gave a swift kick, which Abacus rolled out of the way and dodged. She sneered. 

“Glad your reflexes haven’t dulled. Head to the PAK activation station to recieve your training legs and get to combat training.” 

“Ugh, yes, my Taller.” Abacus groaned and did as he was told.

“You could stand to be a little more obedient.” She sneered.

“I’m not getting graded on my personality am I?” 

His Instructor’s eyes narrowed at his response, but most likely chose to ignore his comment. 

“I picked out your combat partner specifically for you, so best not to keep him waiting any longer. Section B-10 is your arena. Go.”

Abacus cocked an antenna. It was rather rare that he was paired off in this way. Typically, he would just fight any Irken that challenged him, walk together with the irken who was ahead of him in the PAK activation station line. It wasn’t all that organized. But for his instructor to pick out an Irken specifically to be his combat partner? 

It had to be a test. 

Well, whatever kind of test it was, he’d pass it. 

He already had a craving for donuts, so better give his best effort. 

\--------------------------------

Mong was waiting. Because that’s what his Taller told him to do. 

They told him to wait here for his combat partner. One he had to defeat no matter the cost.

He felt a rumble in his spooch. He clutched his stomach. Ignore it, it doesn’t matter. Missing one snack break won’t kill him.

Mong eyed the other Irkens fighting in their own arenas. Noticed the same Taller who was beating him up earlier, kicking another smaller in the face. Did he always fight with smallers? That’s right, it’s other smallers. It made sense. He can get a high score that way. Fighting smallers was a good technique to increase his skills. It wasn’t him. Not him. That’s normal.

Mong desperately hoped that his combat partner wouldn't be a Taller. Tallers were inherently stronger then smallers. It was just a fact and there was nothing that could be done about it. He attempted to smooth out his bent antenna again. It was taking awhile to heal, as well as the bruises from earlier. His legs ached and he desperately wanted to sit down.

But he couldn’t. His Taller said to wait, so he’ll wait. 

He didn’t want to be accused of being lazy or slacking off. Tallers were the only ones who could slack off. 

But it was taking an awfully long time. 

Was he supposed to be doing something?

He noticed a few other Tallers glance his way when they were beating on their smaller combat partners. As if to say, they were coming for him next. 

Which is…. Completely fair. 

What if his combat partner never shows up, and he’s just stuck waiting here until the suns go down. Was that part of the Instructor’s trick? That he had to fight someone and win, and then never give him someone to fight? Not that… his Tallers would ever lie or deceive him. Why should he worry about it, everything will be fine… or not. It didn’t matter either way.

“Hey.” 

Mong jumped at the voice behind him, he turned around and crouched in a defensive stance. 

The Irken facing him blinked. He was rather Tall. About a head taller, no… a head and a half maybe. Was this his combat partner? 

“Calm down, we haven’t started yet.” the Irken plainly said, glancing at Mong’s pathetic claws.

Mong stood upright. But not too Tall. Never too tall. 

“Sorry it took me a bit to get here, had to get fitted with the training legs first.” the Taller replied, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Sorry? Do Tallers apologize? Mong feels as if that was wrong. 

The Taller regarded his weak stance and pathetic legs. He didn’t look intimidated at all. Which is to be expected. That was normal.

“Combat arena B-10, this is the right one, right?” The Taller glanced around.

Oh no! A Taller has been talking to you this whole time, and you haven’t been saying anything! Say something! 

“Yes, sir!” Mong squeaked out.

The Taller looked unimpressed at the formal address.

He must have insulted him somehow.

“Umm… yes… I was told by Commander {REDACTED} that I was to wait here for my combat partner.” 

The Taller stared at Mong, then he looked around. 

“Is this a joke?” He appeared unimpressed. 

“Um… no, my Taller…” 

The Taller rolled his eyes and swore he heard him mutter ‘smallers’ under his breath. 

“Alright then….wanta get started?” 

Mong reflexively tensed his body. If he were to win, he’d need to outsmart his Taller. From looking at how he conducted himself, he was very overconfident. He also had a bit of weight to him. Probably well fed gourmet snacks from his many victories. He did look top heavy in his cranium though, he could use that, possibly. Fighting and going all out on this Taller was alright. He was given permission to. It would be alright. 

“Some ground rules…” The Taller sighed, rolling his shoulders back as he started walking past Mong to the far side of the battle field. 

He… he turned his back towards him? Should he attack? But… rules…? Did the Instructor tell the Taller of his situation? Is that why he was picked? He… he should listen to his Taller.

“Rule number one…” The Taller held up a claw. “...No punching me in the face or grabbing my antenna…. I don’t like it.” 

Mong lowered his claws slightly.

“Umm… ooookaaay?” 

“Punching my spooch is totally fine…” The Taller, as if to demonstrate, punched his own gut a few times. It didn’t look like it hurt him at all. 

“Uhh..okay?” Mong was confused. 

“Two….” The Taller held up a second claw. “No kicking dirt in my eyes or rubbing my face in the dirt… though I doubt you’d do that…” The Taller glanced Mong up and down. Mong resisted the urge to shrink under his gaze. 

“Three…. We can use PAK training legs, but keep that to a minimum… they use a lot of energy and are rather ineffective in combat, and I’d rather not waste my energy overheating my PAK.” 

“Ummmm…. I haven’t received my training legs yet, my Taller.” Mong hesitated in saying so. He hoped it wasn’t talking back.

“....You haven’t?” The Taller cocked an antenna.

“Uh… No, my Taller.” 

“Huh……. Okay then, forget the PAK legs all together. I’m not using them then.” 

“R-really?”

“You can’t use them right? So why would I?” 

Mong blinked. This was… very unlike any Taller he ever met. Sure, he seemed overconfident like most Tallers, but… there was something different. Almost as if these rules…

“Hmmm what else…” The Taller tapped a claw to his lip. “Ah right…”

Mong stared blankly at him. The Taller’s gaze was completely locked on him now. 

“Just because you’re a smaller, don’t roll over like a Canid and die, alright?”

“I...M-my Taller?!” 

Mong didn’t expect to hear that. 

The Taller shrugged and rolled his eyes, he did that a lot, Mong noticed. 

“You smallers… like you always act like I’m going to eat you or something the second I raise my fist. If I was paired with you for a reason, I at least want it to be interesting. I want you to put up a fight.” 

Whatever Mong expected to hear from his Taller partner, that wasn’t it. 

“I… uhh… um…” Mong cleared his throat. “I… will… my Taller… but umm… I…” 

His Taller looked annoyed. Quick, say what you want to. You’re not talking back, you’re just saying your thoughts… which isn’t… bad…

“How am I supposed to put up a fight when I can’t hit your face at all?” 

The Taller cocked an antenna. 

“Figure it out.” 

Wow. Okay then. 

“My Taller… what’s the point of all these rules?”

“I already told you.” The Taller rolled his eyes.

Had he?

“To make it more interesting for me.” 

Mong’s expression furrowed into a frown. Typical Taller. 

“Look, I’ll even let you get the first hit, if you’re such a smeet about it.” The Taller taunted. 

Mong blinked. Was he serious? 

The Taller spread his arms out wide. “Are ya even gonna hit me? Bet you can’t!” 

Mong’s eyes narrowed into a glare. 

His Taller was mocking him. 

Not that it wasn’t well deserved, but…

“Bet you can’t even hit me, can you smaller?” The Taller had his arms spread wide and was moving around the arena a bit. “Probably couldn’t crack your way out of your own incubation plug.” 

This was fine.

Tallers… Tallers… he’s not supposed to question them…

But he knew if he didn’t fight, he wouldn’t win, if he didn’t win, he wouldn’t eat and if he didn’t eat. 

“Are you even listening to me, smeetie, or are your antenna just as defective as your legs!”

A bubbling rage.

Mong lunged at his Taller, and rammed his head into his spooch. The Taller gave an “ooff” and Mong was on him in seconds. Tearing his claws into that fat lard of a belly that was probably stuffed with snacks. The Taller hissed and kicked Mong in the rear, flipping the smaller off of him. Mong scrambled to his feet, and hissed at his Taller, taking a defensive stance. The Taller hissed back, bearing his fangs. The two circled each other. Mong’s eyes never left the Tallers intense glare. He just had to wait for another time to strike. The two’s antenna quivered as they were pinned back against their heads. The Taller was the one to lunge at Mong second, throwing a punch that Mong dodged quickly, but was taken aback by the second punch that came after. 

Connected right above his Spooch. Mong tumbled backwards, and the Taller jumped after him. They were scrambling in a pile of teeth, claws, punches, and kicks. It was hardly a dignified fight, and rather two freshly cracked smeets scrambling over the last snack ration. 

In a way, it was. Mong needed this win. He desperately needed it. He hissed as his Taller pinned him to the ground. He struggled and kicked. The Taller held firm.

“So you can throw a punch, huh, smeetie?” The Taller smirked through sharp teeth. Mong glared.

He spat in his Taller’s eye. The Taller recoiled and held his eye. 

“YOU LITTLE CHEATER! I DIDN’T SAY-”

Mong headbutted him again, which was a bad move this time… He should have targeted his spooch, where he knew he was soft. Smashing his head into the Tallers felt about the same as if he were to run straight into solid rock. He fell backwards and rubbed his head. Which the Taller used the opportunity to kick him in the spooch.

Mong coughed and spat up bile. There was nothing in his spooch to empty. His frame trembled and he felt his energy leaving him. He couldn’t lose… He couldn’t lose… not again.. He had to win. He dug his claws into the dirt as the Taller kicked him again.

“You little cheater! No spitting!” 

“You never said no spitting…” Mong bitterly replied between gasping breaths.

The Taller blinked.

Mong turned to face his Taller. “You said no shoving your face in the dirt or kicking sand in your eyes.” 

Mong smirked in satisfaction as his Taller’s upper lip twitched.

“Well, I’m making that a rule now! No spitting in my eyes! That’s just gross!” 

Even though he was his Taller, Mong spat on his foot.

The Taller gasped and backed up a few steps as he attempted to shake the saliva mixed with bile off his foot.

“What the Zob is Flippin’ WRONG with you!” The Taller gasped out before he was punched in the spooch by Mong again.

Mong was advancing, hit after hit after hit. He could do this, he could win, he could-

The Taller grabbed his fist.

Mong tried to hit him with his other fist.

The Taller grabbed that too.

The Taller glared him down as his grip tightened. 

Mong felt the Irken’s claws dig into his hands. 

Mong tried to hold his stance… The Taller was either attempting to throw him, or ram his stupid hard head into his own. Mong hissed in defiance. But he couldn’t overtake his Taller. He was being pushed back, his legs were too weak. The Taller flashed a sharp toothed smile at him. The Taller knew his legs were weak. He couldn’t hold this stance. He couldn’t overtake his Taller in this position. He couldn’t break free… he couldn’t ram his head into his spooch from this position. 

No… he couldn’t lose..

There had to be some way he could-

The Taller Irken shifted his stance, and lifted Mong up into the air…

What…

And slammed him down to the hard unforgiving floor below. 

And like that… the world went black.

\-------------------------------

Abacus panted, and wiped the sweat and blood from his forehead. Well, that was more of a challenge then he was expecting from a smaller. He certainly didn’t just roll over and beg like he expected him to. Abacus eyed the smaller Irken, lying facedown in the dirt. His PAK appeared undamaged. He’d be fine. Abacus delicately rubbed residual vomit from his eye and foot. That was disgusting...He didn’t think a Smaller would actually spit on him. He has to make that a rule when he fights smallers now. That was just gross. 

Abacus glanced around. He saw the Instructor yelling at trainees. She wasn’t even looking. Maybe it was better that she wasn’t. This didn’t even feel like a fight between two Smeets ready to become Elites in a day. He won, but it was sure not a donut worthy win. At least not against a Smaller. 

Maybe he should have been more cruel. Was he to report to his superior and just lie about how flawless he was in combat? Maybe that would be better. That’ll probably get him donuts. The next snack break wasn’t until…. Abacus looked up at the suns. Probably no more than five hours still. His Instructor didn’t really tell him what to do after he beat his combat partner. He didn’t expect him to be knocked unconscious from that blow at the very least. No other Irkens that were deeply engaged in combat seemed to care. 

Abacus glanced down at the smaller. He leaned down, and smacked the top of his head.

“Hey, did you die?” 

The Smaller squeaked and scrambled to his feet, taking a defensive stance. 

“Hey.” Abacus casually replied. “Sooo…. I won.”

The Smaller’s expression changed from defensive to crestfallen at his words. 

“Did Commander {REDACTED} tell you what I’m supposed to do afterwards? I was just told to come to section B-10 and fight you… but uhh.. She didn’t tell me what to do after that.”

The smaller’s eyes shifted, as if he was debating something with himself. Then he stared at Abacus head on.

“Fight me again.” 

“....what…” 

“My Taller said… that I’m to keep fighting, until I win….” 

Oh.

So it was an endurance test.

Well, if that’s the case he already had this in the bag. The Smaller Irken looked really worse for wear. Abacus could tell before he even began their fight he was a bit low on stamina. In fact, this Irken just kind of looked like it was low on stamina all the time in general. 

“Alright then.” Abacus rolled his shoulders and stood up straight. “Our last fight was kind of lame anyways…” 

The Smaller bit his lip. 

“....What?” 

“Oh! Uhh…” The Smaller stammered a little. 

Ugh. Man, he hated that. Why couldn’t Smallers just say what they meant? It was annoying. 

“Spit it out.” Abacus bluntly stated.

“Ah!” The Smaller gasped. “It’s just… ummm I’m wondering what you meant by… ‘lame’ my Taller.” 

Abacus quirked an antenna. “......What do you mean? We were just kinda rolling around on the floor like a bunch of feral smeets in the education plug.” 

The smaller blinked. 

“Ummm…” the Smaller started..

Abacus rolled his eyes.

“Just say what you want to say.”

“Oh.. um… but that’s how… I always fought… my Taller.” 

Abacus blinked.

“You’re kidding right?”

The smaller shifted. As if he was struggling not to look smaller than he already did. Which was practically impossible. This idiot wasn’t kidding.

“What… so you really do roll over for your Tallers all the time?”

“If it’s what my Taller wishes.” the Smaller replied. 

Abacus raised an eyeridge. 

“Well, I as your Taller certainly didn’t wish for you to spit in my eye.” He sassily replied.

The smaller’s face turned a deeper shade of green, and he avoided his gaze. 

“I’m sorry…” 

Abacus sighed. Geez, Smallers were annoying. He was really stuck with him until the next snack break or until he won? Would he even get donut for helping the smaller, he didn’t even know. Maybe they just wanted to grind him into the dust. He just wanted his donuts. 

“What were your scores in the Simulation plug?” Abacus sighed out.

“Umm… 30.000.000 points.”

“....Pardon?” 

“I got 30.000.000 points on average… combining my score with combat, critical thinking and firearms.” 

Abacus blinked. That was… That was rival to his score. A few notches lower, but still. It was very close.

“How the flippin’ Zob you don’t know how to fight then!” 

Mong gave a squeak.

“It’s the same thing that you were doing in the simulation plug.” Abacus ran his hand down his face. 

He pointed out to the Irkens in arena C-10, both of equal height who appeared to be deep in combat. 

“Fight more like that.” 

The smaller watched the two for a little while, then turned back to face his Taller.

“I… I think I understand… My Taller.”

Abacus let out an annoyed groan, as he forced himself into a combat stance.

\------------------------------------------

It felt like the day never ended.

Mong kept throwing himself, again and again at the Taller, and the Taller bested him every time. 

There was a bit of improvement, each time, but he could tell his Taller was getting increasingly annoyed with him. 

“Are you dead yet?”

“NO SPITTING!”

“Do you call that a punch!” 

“I could throw a rock at you and you’d fall over!” 

“You hit like a smeet.”

“You just don’t quit, do you…” 

All of his Taller’s insults were getting more harsh as their training session went on. Mong was getting sick of tasting the dirt. It was the only snack he ate today. He was starting to feel dizzy and all his losses kept mounting on his building frustration. He had to win or he wouldn’t eat. If it wasn’t for his Taller’s stupid rules, he would win, but he had to obey his Taller. There was nothing that could be done about it. Nothing that could be done. 

His Taller was in front of him. When did that happen!?! Mong squeaked and backed up. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Oh...Okay?...” Mong panted. 

The Taller squinted at him. “You look like you’re going to faint and I didn’t do anything to you, yet.” 

Mong blinked.. Wait.. he was close… he could win. He took a swing and the Taller blocked it easily as if it took no effort at all. 

“And you’ve gotten slower.” 

Mong snarled and swung again, which the Taller easily grabbed. Mong swayed, struggling to stay standing as the Taller held both his hands again. 

“Well, hello again.” The Taller teased. 

Mong hissed and kicked his Taller in the space between his legs. 

The Taller blinked, completely unimpressed. 

“What was that supposed to do exactly?” 

“I DON’T KNOW!” Mong hissed and struggled against his Taller’s grip. He just wanted to win. He just wanted to, he just had to.. Had to had to had to…

The Taller let go.

He hit the ground on his PAK. 

Mong stared at the two suns setting overhead. 

It would be snacktime soon.

His eyes weren’t filling with tears. Because Irkens don’t cry. 

Only worthless Defectives would cry.

Which he isn’t…. So he’s not… 

He saw his Taller leaning down to look at him. His Taller was covered in claw marks, bitemarks, spit and bile, but looked no worse for wear aside from minor cuts here and there. He could barely see his taller though his claws covering his eyes, but he was definitely looking at him. Don’t look at him. Please. 

“....wanta call it quits?” 

Mong rubbed his eyes. 

“No…” he said, hoping to conceal the whimper in his voice. 

“....You aren’t giving up?” 

“I can’t.” 

“...Well, wanta take a break?” 

“We can’t.” 

His Taller frowned. 

“It’s pointless for this to continue, and it’s almost snacktime anyways.” 

“One more fight… please…. My Taller.” 

He couldn’t lose. He needed to be a soldier. He didn’t want to be transferred, he wasn’t a… he couldn’t be a…

“You look like you can’t even stand up.” The Taller glanced at his legs. Don’t look at them my Taller, please.

“I can… I can still fight… I…” 

As if the universe was conspiring against Mong to make him look as weak and pathetic as possible in front of his Taller, his Squeedly Spooch let out a large rumble. 

The Taller smirked a little. 

“See? Snacktime.” 

Mong grumbled and he got up into a sitting position. 

“It’s just cause I haven’t eaten all day…” he grumbled under his breath. 

Mong swore he heard a gasp from his Taller, but he must have imagined it. It didn’t matter anyways, the snacktime bell had already rung.

He failed, and that was that. 

\-------------------------------------------

Abacus looked up when he heard the snack bell. He glanced back towards his sparring partner, who had his head turned away from him and was glaring intensely at the floor. 

Abacus couldn’t believe he was fighting an Irken running on an entirely empty spooch and no rations at all. It was hardly fair, no wonder he kept getting worse as the day went on. Did he just… miss snacktime? It was the most important part of any Irken’s day. 

“W-well, you don’t need to worry about not having eaten anymore! Snack time!” 

The smaller continued to gaze at the floor.

“I mean, you heard the bell, right?” Abacus glanced at the line already forming at Instructor rationing out snacks from the snackdrone Irkens, carrying a heavy containment unit of snacks on their backs. 

“You don’t want to miss snacktime again, right?” Abacus glanced back to his sparring partner who seemed super preoccupied with glaring at the floor. 

Abacus’s expression morphed into a sneer. 

“Fine! Glare at the floor!” 

He ran past him to get in line. 

He was sure he wouldn’t get his donuts. But he wasn’t going to pass up his ration just because some Smaller was being a little Smeet about losing so many times. He got in line behind the other Irkens and patiently waited. The others in front of him were getting the same size bag. Judging from the smell, Irken Dip again. Abacus let out a sigh. His performance in combat was hardly worth getting donuts over. But that’s cause he had such a pathetic excuse for a partner. 

One who saw squabbling on the floor was an effective combat strategy. Well, maybe it was…. He never fought a smaller that actually… well, _fought_ before. Maybe that was just part of their strategy. Keep him as low to the ground as possible? Well he was certain it worked. That smaller had the weakest, pathetic excuse for a combat stance he ever saw. 

He was wobbly on his legs and always looked as if he would fall over on a moment’s notice. Abacus could tell from the instant he laid eyes on him, his legs were a huge weak point. He tried to avoid hitting them when they fought. It wouldn’t have been fair, especially since the Smaller listened to his rules about hitting him in the face…. For the most part, anyways…. He still thought spitting in his eye was gross. 

Abacus approached the Instructor. It was his turn. She looked at him up and down. 

“Where’s your partner?” She asked.

“I don’t know. Moping in the dirt probably.” 

The Instructor raised an eye at that. “So he lost.”

“Lots of times.” Abacus sighed. 

“I see… too easy for you?” She snarked at him.

“Ugh, wouldn’t say that.” Abacus shrugged. “He just wouldn’t give up. It was annoying.” 

The Instructor paused a moment, her gaze shifting towards the combat area. 

“Well….. I can’t say I’m entirely pleased with the situation and how it turned out…” The Instructor lowered themselves for a moment to reach deep into the containment unit on the food drone’s backs. “But you did impress me with the obstacle course earlier today....”

Abacus’s antenna perked straight up as he caught that familiar smell.

“...And, that Smaller failed where you won, so… I suppose you deserve this. Take it before I change my mind.”

Abacus was handed a bag slightly larger than the Irkens in front of him got. It was warm, and smelled good, and.. and… Abacus had to restrain his antenna from vibrating in excitement. 

“Th-Thank you my Taller!” Abacus said with conviction. 

The Instructor drone scoffed, but Abacus thought he saw a hidden smile in there. 

“You’re holding up the line.” Was all she said.

Abacus scampered away from the food ration station as quickly as he could. If he learned anything from the first time he ever received the Irken delight, is that if other Tallers got a whiff that someone smaller than them has a donut, they will see to it personally that it becomes their donut instead. By that, he meant, the very first time he earned a donut for his clearing of an obstacle course, he was rather stupid and ate it for all to see. So he was promptly beaten up and robbed of his donuts. He wasn’t able to get any more when he asked the Instructor. He was just promptly laughed at, and the other Tallers, and even some of the smallers had joined in. 

He was certain to never repeat that same mistake again. He would always take his snackbreaks far away from the others in secret if he was to ever receive a donut. Which Abacus tended to earn a lot of when he wanted to. The Instructor was easy to impress if you just do the right things. If anything, receiving normal Irken-dip rations were often his motivation to improve his performance, and not the other way around. 

Abacus found a secluded bed of rocks, far away from the training areas. It didn’t matter how far he went, just that he came back before snack break was over. He glanced around to make sure he was completely alone. Then he breathed in the sweet scent of the bag of the single sugary pastries within. Still warm. Only the most Elite ever have the pleasure of tasting these. He’ll be sure to savor every bite. He earned them fair and square. Any Irken who dared to come between him and his snackbreak would certainly feel the wrath of his claws. He held the donut in his hands, smiling in satisfaction. Then he caught something out of the corner of his eye. He spotted someone.

Abacus held the bag close to his chest, guarding his prize. 

Wait…. Was that his sparring partner? 

Sure enough, it was the same smaller. He had the same awkward limp in the way that he walked and the same pathetic stance. He was a few feet away from him, but Abacus could see him clearly. Did… did he follow him here? 

Wait….

Abacus noticed something off about the Smaller….… he looked… well… worse…. He had several cuts and gashes that Abacus never remembered giving him. He knew, because he had a massive black eye that made his head swell. Abacus never hit his opponents in the face. His uniform was ripped with larger gashes that looked like they were made by PAK legs, and not claws. They agreed to not use PAK legs. Where did those large gashes come from? Abacus couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t have a ration bag with him… wasn’t he going to get in line after him? 

Wait… why was he…

Oh blarughit! He was coming over here!

Abacus ducked and hid behind the bedrock. 

He didn’t see him, did he? He hopes he didn’t. 

Did he smell him?

Abacus sniffed the donut hidden back away in his bag.

His precious snack is going to get cold…. While he can eat donuts cold…. Warm donuts are always the best…

He heard the sound of the smaller collapsing onto the bedrock above.

Abacus covered his mouth to suppress a gasp. 

Was he…. Alright…. ?

Abacus peeked a little from the other side of his hiding place. 

He was right when he thought the Smaller looked worse for wear. His antenna were bent at odd angles, there were large gashes around his arms, as if he was blocking attacks from PAK legs, and his misshapen legs even looked more damaged, if that was possible, as if hit with a blunt object...not to mention, the black eye and multiple bruises all over any visible skin... It was as if he was viciously beaten up by a Taller…. For what? What did he do? …. I mean.. His performance wasn’t that bad, he thought. More importantly, how did he get away from such a fight? He clearly didn’t run all the way out here… The Smaller’s chest was heaving and he curled in on himself. Abacus could hear the rumbling of the smaller’s spooch with hunger. He… he didn’t get his snacks....

Abacus’s spooch rumbled after the smaller’s on reflex. He turned back to the plain docut at the bottom of his bag. He glared. He held the bag defensively towards his chest. This was his donut! That runt can get his own donuts! He worked hard for these! They were his! A stupid Smaller isn’t going to interupt his snack break. He doesn’t care if he got beaten up by a Taller or a Snarlbeast. These were his donuts and he earned them fair and square.

Abacus’s antenna twitched when he heard a soft sound. 

Then the sound grew. 

The…

The smaller was crying.

Abacus… had heard other Irkens crying before… it just meant they were weak… and they couldn’t handle the training…. They just weren’t strong enough...That’s all…

But… was that really the case…?

The smaller had admitted he didn’t get his first snack break. For what reason, Abacus wasn’t sure…. But…. that clearly put him at a disadvantage…… Abacus thought the Smaller was tenacious even though he was terrible at fighting. It at least wasn’t boring and he didn’t roll over like all the other smallers…. But… that hardly made any of their fights, fair did it? His performance was terrible, because he didn’t have his rations…. And he still hasn’t had his rations… he hasn’t eaten all day…. 

Abacus hesitated. He looked forlornly at his precious donut. 

Ugh.. This was stupid.

\-------------------------------

Mong whimpered and curled in on himself. It was pointless. Come tomorrow, he will be culled. He knew it. He should have never gotten in the line for rations in the first place. He didn’t know what he was expecting. Just cause he held his own against a Taller longer than he expected? Just because the Taller was nicer to him than any other Taller he met, even if he was an arrogant jerk? 

Why did he expect he would get different treatment, or even receive a snack for his efforts? The Instructor just laughed in his face, and proceeded to beat him nearly to death to show the Smallers what makes them think they deserve to ask for snacks for such a poor performance. From then on, Mong just forced himself to move his feet. He didn’t care where he went. As long as it was away from Taller Irkens. Especially Commander {REDACTED}. 

It didn’t matter where he went anyways. He wouldn’t be able to participate in the graduation exam anyways. He hopes he could transfer to be a technician instead. They didn’t need to use their legs as much or worry about combat training. A transfer was more likely than culling… because he wasn’t a defective. The Control Brains…. Mong felt a pain of hunger. The Control Brains said so.

He curled in on himself and cried. 

He didn’t know what would happen to him during the graduation ceremony tomorrow… he didn’t know, and all he could do was accept it.

There was nothing to be done, and he’s sure whatever happens… his Tallest will make the correct decision....

Mong’s antena perked. He thought he smelled… something… it was hard to tell, with how abused his antena were. He lifted his head slightly. 

Through bleary eyes, he could see something round, and sugary in front of his eyes. Mong blinked the tears out of his eyes.

A…. donut…?

He saw irken claws attached to the donut. He followed the claws to the Irken holding it.

It was the Taller Irken he was fighting with earlier today. The one that cost him his graduation. The Taller was looking away as he held the donut in front of Mong’s face, a prominent scowl was visible on the Taller’s face. 

“Here.” The Taller bluntly said.

Mong could only stare. This was a joke? Right?.... Why would he be giving his ration-... no… his donut to a mere smaller like him… 

The Taller slowly moved his head to look at him. 

“What? You haven’t eaten all day right? Take it.” 

Mong blinked. He was…. He was serious. 

No… no, that was his donut. Only elites got to eat donuts, or tallers, or very skilled irkens. He was none of those. He didn’t earn that donut. He didn’t earn anything.

“You don’t need to… my ta-”

“I want to.” The Taller interrupted, looking him straight in the eye.

Mong was stunned for words.

He… he should listen to his Tallers….. Like a good smaller… but… but this was… it wasn’t…

“Look,” The Taller sighed. “You need this more than I do.”

Mong felt an odd bubbling in his squeedly spooch and it wasn’t just the hunger…. Well… maybe it was a lot of the hunger, since his spooch let out a loud growl from the lovely scent of the donut lingering in his face for so long.

“You haven’t eaten all day… and… I fought against a weakened opponent. It wasn’t fair. That’s the only reason I kicked your butt so much. ” 

….Mong didn’t know what to say. 

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It was… unheard of for a Taller to offer their food to a smaller. Irkens… typically don’t share food at all. The entire act of kindness was foreign to Mong, yet the Taller looked at him with complete sincerity. 

“If anyone asks,” The Taller rolled his eyes. “I can say you stole it from me.”

“W-wouldn’t…. Wouldn’t that lower your score?” 

“Meh.” The Taller shrugged. “Not by much. Commander {REDACTED} loves me.” Mong couldn’t help but notice the Taller’s sarcasm at that. 

He couldn’t help but give a small snicker at that, he knew that Instructor hated everyone. Even Tallers. He’s seen it for himself. The Taller smiled a little back, but then Mong’s smile faded.

“.....I can’t….” he started.

“Ughhhh! You smallers! Look, just take it before I change my mind okay?! You’re all about doing as your Taller wishes, right? So listen to your Taller in saying that you earned this donut by refusing to back down in the face of adversity and giving me an interesting fight when you were starving! Now eat it before it gets cold!” The Taller shoved the donut closer to his face, frowning as he turned his head away. 

Mong blinked…. He timidly reached shaking claws towards the donut and grabbed it with both his hands. The Taller gasped at the slight contact and turned back to face him.

“.....Thank you…” Mong said. It probably came out more fragile and weak sounding then he intended it to. But… he didn’t know what else to say. He couldn’t help but be completely sincere.

The Taller blinked....

“You’re welcome…” He slowly took his claw away from the donut, as if there was some part of him that really didn’t want to let it go.

Mong stared blankly at the Taller, and the Taller stared back. 

“Uh… eat it before it gets cold…” The Taller plainly said, pointing at the donut.

“A-ah!” How thoughtless… this was a Tallers’ gift, and he was already disrespecting it. “I-I’m sorry, My Ta-”

“Abacus.”

“...W-what?”

“It’s Abacus.”

Mong blinked.

“...I was never a fan of people referring to me as a Taller….” The Taller, now named Abacus, rubbed the back of his neck.

“......Okay… my-....” Mong cleared his throat a little. “I mean… Abacus.” 

The Taller named Abacus smiled a little at that. 

“....I’m Mong.”

“Hi Mong.” Abacus said as his smile grew wider. 

\----------------------------------------- 

Abacus really didn’t know how it came to this. He just meant to hand the smaller…. Sorry….he meant _Mong_ the donut and leave. But here he was, sitting next to him. Watching with anticipation. He was sad that his donut was being eaten by him. Mong offered to give it back, or share, but he assured him that he could earn other donuts. Which wasn’t a lie. Plus, Mong needed that sugar more than he did anyways.

Once Mong was assured a thousand times over by him that it was really okay to eat the donut. He finally sunk his pink teeth into the pastry. When he did, his antenna shot straight up and his eyes sparkled. Abacus let out a smile at that. Did he really look that stupid when he ate donuts? Well, he was glad he ate them away from everyone now. 

“Good, huh?” Abacus smirked. 

Mong chomped down on the donut heartily. Devouring it in a matter of seconds. He wasn’t really joking when he said he hadn’t eaten. Mong’s antenna were vibrating and he was chirping. Abacus hadn’t heard other Irkens chirp before, but he certainly learned of it in the education plug. He thinks it was… ah.. Something an irken did when they were happy, he thinks… It was hard for him to remember, but he’s certain that’s what it was. It made him feel…. Good hearing Mong chip, after he was in such a gloomy mood earlier, and was crying over Tallers beating on him. 

Mong licked his fingers clean. 

“I… I never knew that’s what a donut tasted like…” Mong muttered.

“I’ll be sure to ‘steal’ you some more then.” 

Mong gasped and he covered his mouth. Abacus snickered. 

“A-ah… n-no… my tal… uh… A-Abacus.. You’ll get in trouble.” 

“Nah, I won’t.” Abacus snickered. “Like I said, Commander {REDACTED} loves me.” 

“I don’t think Commander {REDACTED} likes any Taller…” 

Abacus felt his smile grow wider. “I can never tell if you like Tallers or hate them…” 

Mong squeaked. He looked nervous. “Ah.. I like all my Tallers…I could never hate a Taller... what my Tallers say is absolute… soo….”

Abacus covered his mouth as he repressed the urge to burst into a fit of laughter. He didn’t want to scare the jumpy smaller. He might take his laughing as a show of dominance. 

“You’re really interesting, Mong.” He chose to say instead.

Mong blinked.

“You’re allowed to hate Irkens that are Taller than you, ya know?”

Mong looked astonished by what he just said, then his expression soured. 

“You can only say that cause you’re tall.” Mong said.

“I’m like… medium Tall….” Abacus made a wishy washy motion with his hands “There are other Irkens that are Taller than me….as Commander {REDACTED} always tells me ‘You’re Tall, but not that Tall..’ eh.. I’m not good at impersonations...” Abacus shrugged off, giving up halfway mimicking his Instructor’s shrill voice. 

Mong covered his mouth. Was he hiding a laugh, too? 

But then his expression soured again.

“You should respect your Tallers.”

“Meh.” Abacus shrugged. 

Mong raised an eyeridge. 

“What kind of Taller are you?”

“I don’t know….” Abacus laid down on the bedrock, next to the smaller irken. He spotted his ration bag out of the corner of his eye and shook it a little bit. “A Taller that… doesn’t like to be Tall I guess..” 

Mong practically gasped at that.

“W-why wouldn’t you want to be Tall? You can do anything! You can get the best rations, the best snacks, Smallers look up to you, and you don’t need to worry about… being culled or transferred..” 

Abacus was poking his face in his ration bag, scouring for crumbs.

“Yeah… your Instructors and Sargents expect too much for you, Smallers are scared of you, Irkens your size try to surpass you, and Tallers beat down on you…. Everyone wants to be the next Tallest, everyone wants to be Taller... At least with Smallers, you know where you stand… everyone hates you….” 

Abacus poured the remaining donut crumbs into his mouth. He hated he was getting second hand donuts, but they were still donuts. Mong was strangely silent. He was looking at his hands in his lap. 

“You can speak your mind, Mong… I won’t get mad.”

There was a bit of a pause before Mong spoke.

“I guess, I never saw it that way… but… I suppose you’re right… Everyone hates you…. but…” Mong began fidgeting his claws in his lap. “When you’re smaller… your rations are smaller… getting gradually smaller and smaller every day until you get nothing..”

Abacus blinked. Is that what happened? ….Well now he felt guilty for eating those crumbs now, thanks a lot.

“Irkens of all kinds kick and beat you down… and you need to take it. And accept it, even if you hate it.” 

“....But why?” Abacus questioned.

“...Why?!” Mong gasped as if it was obvious. “Why?! Because I’m small!”

“No, I mean… why don’t you fight back, you don’t need to take that!” 

Mong frowned. 

“See, you only say that cause you’re Tall… A smaller fighting back against a Taller is unheard of and an easy way to get culled. When you’re smaller, when everyone hates you, you can never win. Even your victories are failures. If you fight back, you’re dead, if you roll over, you’re made fun of.…It doesn’t matter what you do as a smaller. All your options are the incorrect ones. Even if your score is high. Even if you’re right.” 

Abacus paused a moment. Considering Mong’s heated words. He knew that was true, all to well, but...

“But you fought against me.” 

Mong’s face turned a darker shade of green. “T-that’s different! You were my sparring partner!” 

“And how many sparring partners have you just rolled over for and let them beat you up just cause they were Tall?” Abacus argued back. 

Mong’s gaze shifted. 

“I’m just saying… I’ve seen it a lot… I really don’t like fighting with Smallers...they give up before I can even do anything…. But you… you fought back… I just didn’t expect it.”

Mong tuned to look at Abacus now. He looked as if he was hesitating on saying something, but he said it quicker than Abacus expected him to. Perhaps it had something to do with him being in a lying position, and Mong in a sitting position. From this angle, it looked as if Mong was the Taller. 

“Is that why you made all those weird rules?” 

Abacus raised an antenna. 

“You know...before we fought…” 

Abacus lowered his antenna. 

“Oh.. right… that… hmmmm…” How was he supposed to answer this? “Well… kinda… they’re mostly just to make the fight fair.” 

“....fair?....” Mong asked. “But I’m-...”

“Small, yeah I know…” Abacus sighed. He turned away. 

“Ah.. I- I’m sorry I-”

“No, don’t apologize, I’m not offended or anything.” 

“Oh.” Mong said, sounding a bit unsure of what to say.

He’s never really quite met a Taller like Abacus. He wasn’t sure he understood what he was talking about. He wanted to make the fight… fair? But he was a Smaller, Abacus was a Taller. The whole thing wasn’t fair from the start, and the Instructor knew it. That’s probably why he was paired off against him. 

“Well, it’s not like it matters. The fight wasn’t fair from the start anyways.” Abacus huffed. 

Ah… so he was aware of- 

“You didn’t get your snack for the day… and you said your portions were getting smaller, and smaller, yeah?” 

Mong blinked slowly, then he nodded, then he realized that Abacus wasn’t looking at him. 

“Umm..That’s right.”

“So you were weakened, not at your full strength, and I easily overpowered you. So...we should fight again. Once you get some more snacks in you. Then it’ll be a fair fight.”

There was a lengthy pause. Abacus knew that Mong was debating what he wanted to say. Although, Abacus had a pretty good idea. What he said probably sounded downright crazy. He knew that… but…

“...I think… you overpowered me, because I was small, my Taller.” 

Abacus sat up like a shot, and turned to face Mong. There was a scowl on his face and Mong noticeably flinched at his sudden movement.

“Why aren’t you getting this?! I had a snack, you didn’t. You were starving! End of discussion!” 

Mong looked fearful for a moment, but then he glared as well. 

“You are Tall, I am small. You overtook me, it happens all the time.” 

“That’s cause-...........” Abacus’s antenna shot straight up as if he just realized something. “....that’s cause they starve the Smallers…..” 

Mong’s bent antenna shot up. 

“You said it yourself…. They keep making your portions smaller and smaller don’t they?” 

Mong shifted. He appeared uncomfortable. 

“Who’s to say they don’t do this with all the smallers… no wonder our hatchbatch has been decreasing in size… they intentionally keep the smallers weak so they can-”

“Why do you care?” Mong spoke timidly.

Abacus turned to him. Mong was looking at his claws folded on his lap. He looked uncomfortable with where this conversation was going. He refused to look Abacus in the eye. What he was saying was high treason and certainly a reason to get culled. To even suggest that there’s something wrong at all. Abacus had to have known that. He didn’t seem stupid. Mong knew that after spending the majority of the day with him. He was one of the smarter Tallers he’d known. He had to know what he was saying.

“Why….” Abacus shifted. Why did he… why did he care?

Abacus frowned. Recalling something. 

“...This is gonna sound really stupid… well, no, it’s gonna sound darn-right crazy…” 

“You already sound pretty crazy.”

Abacus turned his head back to Mong with a little pout. Instead of apologizing, Mong gave a bit of a smile.

“I mean… a Taller that doesn’t want to be Tall… that’s pretty crazy.”

Abacus let out a noise that sounded like a combination of a laugh and a scoff.

“Okay, point made.” 

There was a small moment of a shared silence between the two Irkens. Abacus debated on how he would word what he wanted to say next. It might be best to start with the obvious, if Mong hadn’t figured it out already. 

“...I wasn’t always Tall.” Abacus sighed out.

Mong blinked.

“I shot up sometime when we were just done with the simulation plug. Around that time things started to get better. I was given better snacks, people were telling me how I was so smart and tall, that I’m a shoe in for the next Tallest... Sounds great right… well.. That was the problem… Which is dumb, right? Most Irkens would take their growth spurt perks without complaining.”

Mong listened carefully. Unsure where Abacus was going with this. 

“I was highly praised for so little, the ones who used to be taller than me stopped picking on me and the ones who I sat next to in the simulation plug… they…”

  
Abacus swallowed a lump in his throat. He hasn't told anyone this. Why was he telling Mong this? But he couldn't stop.

“They treated me different. They were scared of me. They either wanted to kiss-up to me or ignore me. I was their Taller now. They had to show their respect….” Abacus’s brow furrowed and he stared straight ahead, not bothering to look at Mong. He didn’t dare look at his expression. 

“And…” Abacus continued. “I just didn’t understand. Why were my smeetmates treating me differently, just because I grew a few inches…. Why were my instructors treating me differently just because I was tall now? Why was I getting better snacks when my smeetmates were getting the same rations they always got? ….It… it makes no sense… It doesn’t make SENSE!” Abacus dug his claws into his palms in an attempt to calm himself. 

He took a deep breath and looked at the setting suns overhead, watching how the sky turned from ruby red to dusty orange, the planet Irk shining ever brighter in the distant twilight. He couldn’t tell Mong’s expression, but he refused to look at him. 

“So… I just had to ask the Instructor… the last day of our simulation training… if there were Tallers on other planets…. But…. there isn’t… isn’t that strange… that Irk is the only one that works this way… and.. It’s just not….” Abacus let out a deep breath. “....fair.” 

Abacus finished his rant, staring at the setting suns and digging his claws into his palms. He knew this sounded dumb. And he confessed his treasonous thoughts towards a smaller. A smaller who was a bit of a kiss up for the rules and tallers. He shouldn’t have told him anything. What was it about Mong that just made him slip into conversation like this? This was a mistake. 

“...I remember that day.” Mong said. 

Abacus’s antenna bounced upwards. He turned to face Mong. The smaller didn’t look as if he was making fun of him. Quite the opposite, he appeared to be listening with rapt attention. 

“You asked the instructor in front of the entire simulation plug if there were Tallest on other planets.” Mong recalled, then his expression morphed into a half-hearted smile. “They looked so mad… but…. Then they said, that's what makes the Irken race superior to other races. Our height based hierarchy, and that the Tallest and Tallers mean everything.”

Abacus turned away. "Yeah.." there was some odd melancholy in his voice Mong couldn't place.

Well… no…. He could.

"You disagree?" 

Abacus bit his lip. Whatever he answered would be bad. Did he think height wasn't everything? …. He didn't know. He didn't know and that's what bothered him. Why was he treated differently cause he grew a little? Why were the Tallest everything? Why did no other race have Tallest? What about Tallest makes them superior?

He could only wonder why things were the way that they were. And no Superior Irken would provide him with a satisfactory answer.

"....Do you?" Abacus asked in return.

Mong gave a small clicking noise. There was a lengthy pause between the two Irkens. One who used to be smaller, the other, who had always been small. 

"It's all I know." Mong finally answered. 

Abacus noticed Mong's antenna hang low.

"...You hate it."

Mong fidgeted. Did he hate it? He wasn’t sure. Maybe… parts of it? He hated how he had to keep his head down and behave. Whatever the Talkers decide is law. He's done everything right. Everything his Tallers want him to do. In the end, did it even matter? Does his high score or effort even matter? Just cause he's small? It probably didn't. Even this conversation didn't matter. Even if he wasn't defective… he was small and he failed the Instructor’s test. It didn’t matter if Abacus thought the fight wasn’t fair. It didn’t matter what he thought. He'd be culled tomorrow. 

Abacus's brow furrowed in concern when Mong didn't answer. He reached out, as if to comfort the smaller, but then he retracted his hand. 

“...Well… it’s just a thought anyways….” Abacus mumbled, turning away.

Mong murmured a noise of agreement. 

The Smaller didn’t disagree with the Taller, but both seemed to know that continuing that line of thought was pointless, and dangerous. Neither of them had nothing else to contribute to the conversation. The silence lingered longer than it needed to between them, but for some reason, it didn’t feel awkward as the other thought it would. As if there was an imaginary gravitational pull keeping them from getting up and returning to base. They both knew the snack break they were taking was a rather extended one. One of the suns was already beginning to touch the ground. 

Abacus’s gaze was fixed on the setting sun. Mong wondered if he was avoiding looking at him cause he was small and disgusting. That’s probably what it was….. No… Abacus looked… wistful. Silent. Mong turned his gaze to follow his hatchmate, the red and oranges of Hobo {REDACTED} were turning into a darker and purple landscape. The encroaching darkness encompassing the dirtscape.

“I can’t wait till I graduate.” Abacus said finally. 

Mong gave an awkward smile.

“Yeah, a few more years and it’ll all be over.”

Abacus raised an antenna. 

“Don’t you just mean just one more day? We graduate tomorrow.”

Mong held his weak smile. He couldn’t tell Abacus the possibility that he might be transferred to a different department or culled by the end of the night. 

“Yeah… that’s what I meant…” 

Abacus couldn’t pinpoint Mong’s uncertainty. He was sure he didn’t get the date wrong. It was hardwired into his PAK, and he was sure it was {INFORMATION NOT FOUND} 

“You can’t even wait a few more hours?” Mong asked, his notion of Tallers and Smallers gone in that moment. His voice carried a tune of one teasing his friend.

Abacus scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Well, of course! At least when I’m a Defender… out there, I won’t need to deal with all the stupid Taller and Smaller junk.”

“I’m sure they’ll still be others you answer to.” 

“Feh! Well, they gotta answer to me then.”

“No wonder you’re Commander {REDACTED}’s favorite. So obediant.”

Abacus pouted, but Mong saw his lips twitch with the hint of a smile. 

“Hey! My Instructor said I was a delight to have in the simulation plug!”

“Yeah, how many years ago was that again? Thirty?” 

Abacus pushed Mong off the bedrock. Mong squeaked and fell to the ground with a soft oof. He scrambled to his feet quickly, looking ready to fight. Abacus stayed seated and he smirked and snickered at the sight. Mong pouted, and brushed the dirt off his uniform. 

“Man, when did you get so sassy?” Abacus turned his head away, and that’s when Mong took his chance. 

He tackled the Taller, and pushed him off the bedrock. Abacus wasn’t expecting it and landed on his rear. Mong snickered. 

“Probably when you gave me permission to be, My Taller.” Mong smirked. 

Abacus pouted, then smirked.

“When I’m a Defender, I hope you’re in my squadron, Mong.” 

Mong’s smile faded. “Yeah.” He checked his eternal clock. “We should head back.” 

“Yeah, it’s not the first extended snack break I’ve taken…” Abacus replied plainly. He stood up and brushed the dirt off. 

“We’ll get in trouble… won’t we…” Mong climbed down the bedrock, and Abacus caught him when he stumbled on the landing.

“They’ll rough us up a bit, but no more than usual.” Abacus shrugged. 

Mong nodded a bit hesitantly, knowing that couldn’t be true.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The two headed back in silence. By the time they reached base camp, snack break was already long over, The hatchbatch was already starting their night combat training. The two watched the cracks of lighting and glow of PAK lights decorating the battlefield. Abacus turned to Mong and was about to assure him that they could sneak back into a combat arena like nothing happened. The instructor hardly cared if he went off missing. 

“ABACUS!” The shrill voice of his commander sounded. Abacus turned his head and made out the angry Taller heading in his direction. He swore that everyone paused in their fighting just to see him get yelled at. His antenna lowered, and turned to Mong. Who looked like he was resisting the urge to curl in on himself and appear smaller then he already was. 

“Hey.. it’ll be fine.” Abacus murmured before the Instructor was towering over him. Abacus raised his eyes and antenna towards her. “Sup.” He replied casually as if she wasn’t baring her teeth down at him. 

“Where have you been? Your snack ration break ended 3 hours ago?” She hissed. 

Three hours? It couldn’t have been that long, could it? Usually when Abacus took too long on his breaks it was no more than an hour or a half at most. But sure enough, when he checked his internal clock, which he didn’t bother to check until now, the Instructor was correct. 

“Oh… yeah, whoops.”

She sneered down at him. “Whoops is all you have to say?”

Abacus shrugged. “I was just giving my sparring partner a private training lesson, that’s what your test was about right? To test my leadership capabilities or whatever?” 

I mean, why make him fight that smaller in particular. It had to be what it was.

The Instructor’s antenna raised slightly and her glare lessened ever so slightly. Her gaze bore into the smaller. Mong was resisting the urge of shrinking back from his Taller and failing. He was practically hiding behind Abacus. 

“You fought?...And didn’t think to use the combat arena for that?”

“Irkens fight pretty well without it all the time.” Abacus replied boredly. 

Mong was probably wondering how Abacus could remain so calm, but the truth is, he was really terrified. He hadn’t been out that late before. It will be worse for him if he shows that fear. He was certainly going to get punished. Taller or not. 

The Instructor’s glare narrowed at Mong. Her antenna angled at both of them. The two Irkens said nothing under her gaze. 

“I shouldn’t have given you that donut.” 

Mong squeaked. Did she know, she couldn’t have. Mong had no crumbs on him or any evidence that he’d eaten… how did….she couldn’t have known, she didn’t even say that Mong ate his ration. It’s fine. Everything is fine. 

“Get back to B-10.” She gestured with her head, glaring at Abacus.

“Yes, My Taller.” Abacus responded. Better to show respect then get a swift kick in his head. 

Abacus started to head to their sparring arena, Mong following close behind. 

“Hold on… where are you going Mong?”

Her voice caused the two Irkens to freeze in their tracks. 

“You said-” Abacus started.

“You are dismissed, Abacus, and you are to resume your nightly combat training.” Her glare shifted to Mong, who couldn’t resist turning away from her gaze that time. “Mong will stay.”

Mong’s antenna lowered. Abacus looked back and forth between Mong, the Instructor, and the combat arena. 

“It’s not his fault!” Abacus stated before he could stop himself. “I was the one that insisted on our private lesson. Mong shouldn’t need to be punished just because I wanted a few extra hits in.” 

Abacus didn’t know what he was doing. He didn’t know why he was lying to his superior officer like this. He had nothing to gain for it. Well, he had a sparring partner to lose if Mong stayed behind. Like who knows what’ll happen if he’s stationed with some weirdo he doesn’t know. Mong’s eyes shifted toward him. Why wasn’t he saying anything or defending himself? Why did Abacus feel the need to defend him at all? 

The Instructor clicked her teeth. Her patience nearly ran out. 

“Mong will begin his graduation exam early.” 

Abacus and Mong both raised their antenna.

“Early?...” Mong questioned. It was the first word he spoke since they returned to the combat base. 

“The exam is meant to start when the first sun on Hobo {REDACTED} peeks beyond the horizon.” 

Abacus gazed out in the darkness. That’s probably a few hours from now. Nights never lasted long here after all.

“Due to unique….circumstances…. Mong will be the first to take his graduation exam.”

Mong looked too stunned for words. He exchanged a look with Abacus who appeared just as stunned. 

“Why just Mong, though?” Abacus asked. 

“As I said, the training Mong underwent in these past 24 hours fits a unique set of criteria that need to get him evaluated right away.”

Mong’s gaze shifted. He appeared to be thinking about something, or he looked nervous, but Abacus couldn’t place it. It was most likely nerves. 

“Sweet! Can I go after Mong then?” Abacus asked. “Since I helped train him?” 

The Instructor sneered. “That you did, but no. You have to wait your turn like everyone else.”

Abacus had a weird feeling about this. But it was probably good. Mong was the first to take his graduation exam. He knew his score. He’d be sure to pass. Which would mean he’d get to be a Defender, and he would follow soon after him. He hoped they’d get put on the same squad. Abacus made sure not to sound that excited for his fellow Irken. He wanted to wish him good luck on the exam or something, some assurance to Mong. Some encouragement. Even if he was small, he’d be sure to pass. he didn’t want to get in anymore trouble then he already was. 

“Smell ya later, then.” He settled on. 

Mong gave a weak smile. “You too.”

And with that, Abacus gave a half-assed wave as he headed towards the combat arena. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Deep in the planet’s core of {REDACTED} Mong was staring at the floor. Staring at his mismatched legs. He was woefully unprepared to be presented or shown to his Tallest. His torn uniform. His unkempt appearance. His bent antenna. His smallness. Too parayzed with fear to even think of running or escaping. He took a deep breath as a huge cable snaked downwards and attached itself to his PAK. A brief jolt got sent through his body as he was lifted up to the many eyes of one of the Control Brains. A voice reverberated in his head. 

**TRAINEE MONG.**

**HEIGHT: 104.14 IRKENMETERS**

**HIGHSCORE: 30.000.000 POINTS**

“What do you think, My Tallest?” Mong was aware of his Instructor’s voice close to him, but it sounded a schmillion light years away.

“Wait for the Control Brain’s verdict.” The Tallest replied from a nearby monitor that Mong didn’t dare look at.

The Tallest shouldn’t look at him like this. No one should look at him like this.

“ **Trainee Mong is not fit to be an Irken Defender.** ” The Control Brains stated in their monotone voice that sounded as if it was coming from Mong’s own head. “ **Their physical limitations make them unfit to be a soldier in any capacity.”**

“So he’s Defective then. Go on then, cull them.” The Instructor said, but then let out a squeak. Mong could only assume the Tallest gave her the most ugly stank eye for that remark.

His Tallest shouldn’t defend him like that. He didn’t deserve that honor. 

**“However, Mong’s scores are among the highest in his Hatchbatch. Rivaled only by Trainee Abacus.”**

Mong flinched at Abacus’s name. Abacus…? His score was that high? Both of theirs?... He… didn’t know that…. Abacus… never mentioned it when he told him his score.

**“It would be a shame to let that brain go to waste.”**

Mong couldn’t help notice the Control Brain’s choice of words.

“What do you propose?” The Almighty Tallest asked. Disinterest laced in their voice as if they have heard this before. “Another Computer Brain?” They asked, practically yawning out the question.

**“We determined that would be the most suitable station for Mong’s mind. Their biological shell is Defective. There isn’t anything to gain for him as an Irken.”**

Mong flinched at that. But… that couldn’t be… he… he had misshapen legs from the moment he hatched. He wasn’t called a Defective then. What made them change their minds? What had he done differently? He did his best. Mong didn’t understand what being a Computer Brain meant. Was it like a brain… technician..? Mong’s thought process stopped as he locked eyes with the eyes of the Control Brains. His pathetic reflection stared back at him, past the organic glass that made them shine red, beyond their stare…. He could see them. 

The collective brains of the Irkens before him….The Past Tallests, beyond the thick transparent glass eyes…. Housed within the massive shell that looked eerily similar to a PAK. 

Mong’s eyes widened in realization and horror. 

“Well, do it then.” The Tallest said dismissively. “There’s a lot of hatchbatches to get through today.” 

Mong blanched at the casual dismissal by his Tallest. But it was expected. He was small, he wasn’t special, he…

_You’re allowed to hate Irkens that are Taller than you, ya know?_

The Control Brain’s many eyes turned from red to a piercing blue. Mong heard a crack of electricity crackling up behind him. Everything felt as if it was moving in slow motion. Mong quivered violently before the wave of electricity even reached him. 

_Why don’t you fight back, you don’t need to take that_

“WAIT!” Mong shrieked out as he noticed robotic arms descend upon him with sharp tools.

_It’s just not…..fair…._

“WAIT! I could be a pilot, or a techni-” 

  
  
  


\--------------------------------------------------------------

The first sun peeked up from Hobo {REDACTED} ‘s horizon.

Abacus eagerly got in line for the Graduation Exam. Finally, he’d graduate, and he wouldn’t need to put up with his stupid Hatchbatch anymore. The partner he ended up with night training was a Taller that was especially hard on him. He could only suspect that Commander {REDACTED} did that on purpose. In his haste to hurry for the graduation exam, he completely forgot to return his PAK legs. He actually never returned them since his sparring session with Mong. 

Speaking of Mong, he hopes he will get to see them soon. Not that he expected to. It was highly likely that Mong already graduated. Probably getting stationed wherever he was going. Which was all the more reason for Abacus to dash towards his Commander the moment the sun began to rise. He wanted to be paired in the same squad, and it was more likely he would if he would take his exam as soon as possible. Yet despite his eagerness, there was still a rather sizable line of Irkens filing single file heading underground. Abacus pouted, standing on his tiptoes trying to get a better look at the Irkens ahead of him taking the final exam. He knew it probably made him look smaller then he already was, but he was never one to care about that. 

All he could tell was that the Irkens ahead of him, didn’t come back out, yet the line kept decreasing. Abacus pouted, trying to ignore the rumbling in his Spooch. He glanced around, and spotted a superior Taller guarding the line.

“Excuse me, My Taller.” Abacus began. It served him well to be polite in these instances. 

The Taller guard turned towards Abacus. 

“Where do the Graduates go?” Abacus asked.

The Taller scoffed. “Off planet.”

Abacus cocked an antenna. “....From underground?”

The guard didn’t reply.

“How does a ship get out from underground?.... Is the planet mechanical? Is the core a docking station or-”

“They just do.” The Taller grunted.

Abacus frowned. “Okay, but off planet were? I don’t see ships out there? Wouldn’t I have-”

The guard raised an electrical speer and held it in front of Abacus’s face. Abacus’s expression morphed into a glare. 

“Stay in line, Smeetie.”

Abacus didn’t like this guard’s attitude. He wasn’t going to be a smeet in a few more hours. He just wanted to know where his hatchmate was.

“....Fine….” Abacus pouted. It wasn’t like he was going to find out soon enough anyways. There were only four more Irkens to go anyways.

\--------------------------

The exam wasn’t at all what Abacus had been expecting. It was a combat session against a Digestor. It hardly used a majority of his combat skills and agility that he had been training against the obstacle course. The battle was a little anticlimactic, considering he learned of Digestor’s years ago in the simulation plug. While he didn’t have any snacks to pacify it, if you kicked one square in the teeth, and asserted your dominance, they were a real passive species. Sure enough, after a few quick dodges and a good blow to the jaw, the Digestor was defeated.

Abacus raised his antenna at the sound of an announcer voice that echoed throughout the colosseum.

**“Congratulations, Defender Abacus. You have passed.”**

A door near the far side of the arena opened up, and Abacus excitedly ran toward it. 

He did it!

He won!

He was finally getting off this stupid dusty rock! 

He’d be in Mong’s squad. 

Hopefully the Talers in the squad wouldn’t be too mean either. 

He could-

Abacus came to a halt as he entered what appeared to be an empty room. It was just a white grid. Abacus noticed several ships at the far end, small computer screens above displayed planet coordinates and a view towards the outside. This appeared to be a docking station. But… where were the other Irkens? There were at least five or six before him. Abacus couldn’t remember the count exactly, but he knew he wasn’t the first one to graduate. The others ahead were Taller than him too. They most likely passed. 

Abacus glanced around the empty room. 

“Congratulations on being the first to pass the final Exam.” came the voice of his Tallest on a monitor overhead.

The first… but….

That can’t be right?

Where were the other Irkens?...

Dread set deep in his Spooch. 

Where was Mong?

His Tallest displayed on the monitor overhead held a fake smile, as if they weren’t even seeing him. 

“You are the pride of the Empire young Elite, now go forth, and fight. You will find a guard Taller to assign you to your first assignment. Glory to the Empire.” The monitor fizzled out to static before Abacus could get any words out.

Sure enough, when he looked behind him, near the sealed door he came out of, there were two guard Irkens. Abacus ignored the rumbling in his Spooch as he headed towards one of them.

“Excuse me… My Taller…”

The Taller said nothing as they moved a scanner over Abacus’s body until a beep sounded, then looked at the screen. 

“Abacus. Station coordinates {REDACTED} Planet {REDACTED}” The Taller gestured towards the ship docking station.

“Ah… no… that’s not it… I…” The Taller glared down at him. “Where’s the other graduates?” 

“Didn’t you hear Almighty Tallest (REDACTED}’s message? You’re the first one.”

That…. That can’t be…

“There were a few Irkens ahead of me.. Where’d they go?”

“Failed the exam.” The Taller replied with such disinterest it made Abacus feel as if his Spooch got launched into his throat. 

Failing…

Did that mean… 

Culled…?

Or did the Digestor dispose of them…

A million questions buzzed in his brain, but he managed to squeak out the one thing on his mind. The one thing he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since they parted ways last night. 

“Where’s Mong?”

“Mong?”

“A sm-......” Abacus gulped down a lump in his throat. “Another Irken Trainee. They took their graduation exam last night… hours before anyone else.”

The two guards exchanged looks. 

The other thumbed through a tablet that came out of their PAK. 

“No, you were the first one to graduate, and no one took the exam until the first sun rose.”

Abacus’s whole body shook.

“Check the records again! Mong is in my hatchbatch! He should be in there!” 

“No… no one….by that…” The Taller replied bordley, scrolling through their tablet. 

“Oh wait a moment…” The other Taller responded. “I think I remember… didn’t Commander {REDACTED} take that runt smeet to get culled last night?”

…..Culled.

“Is that where she went off to?”

Mong…. Was…. culled.

“I’m certain, I was on guard duty for the underground that night.”

Abacus was chosen to fight Mong cause he had the highest score.

“Wasn’t that the ugly one with the bent antenna I saw her with?”

That’s what the test was. 

It wasn’t to prove he was good at instructing Smallers. 

Commander {REDACTED) wanted him to lose.

Is that… is that why Mong was crying….

He knew.

He hadn’t eaten.

It wasn’t fair…

“Yeah, he looked pretty weak…”

“Obviously defective too… have you seen his legs and how much he sucks at combat?”

That wasn’t his fault.

It wasn’t his fault.

It wasn’t fair….

He needed another chance…

Another fight….

Mong was brilliant.

He didn’t….

He wasn’t…

“I heard he spat up a donut later…”

“Stealing a reward from a Taller, that’s pretty low.” 

They even…

He gave him that donut.

That was for Mong.

No one else.

Mong didn’t steal.

He didn’t cheat.

He didn’t give up. 

They created a situation where it was impossible for Mong to win.

Just for him to be….

It… It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t Fair.

Not fair not fair not fair not fair not fair not fair not fair not fair…

Abacus’s entire body shook.

“Well, can’t say I’m not surprised. That Irken was far too Defective and weak to even make it as a proper sold-.”

His mind went blank. Before he could even think about what he was doing, his Paklegs extended and He leapt onto the Taller. A scream rang out as he dug his sharp teeth into his shoulder, toppling the Taller to the ground. He heard shouting from the other guard but it fell numb on his antenna. 

Don’t talk about him like that.

Like he was lesser. 

It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair.

His claws were awash with the blood of his Taller as he repeatedly clawed at him, hissing with a furry and intense emotion Abacus had never known before. He had never cared this much about anything. He wanted him back. 

Give him back!

Give Mong Back!

It wasn’t fair!

It wasn’t fair! 

He was smacked to the ground, the contents of his spooch bubbling forth onto the ground. Irken claws that he recognized as his own, clawed into the dirt, trembling as his tiny frame felt ill. 

“I’ll let you off with a warning…. Just go back to your-”

He got to his feet, jumping onto the Taller Irken and his vision was awash with the blood hot pink on his claws and in his mouth. His PAK legs extended and slashed at the two Tallers before him. Heat firing from the tip of his paklegs. He bit down hard and refused to let go. Other voices buzzed around him and he bit and clawed at his superior officer. 

A crack, a flash. His vision awash with blue as he convulsed and passed out. 

\-------------------------------------------

……….

……….

……….

What had he done?

That was the only thing Abacus could think as he stared at the towering Control Brains before him. His claws, covered in dried blood, in handcuffs…. His Mouth… muzzled. He bites… He sadly eyed the Control Brains before him. Whatever they decided, he’d get what he deserved. He was a good Soldier… he did everything the right way….. Why did things turn out like this? What they were both saying about Mong… he… He got so angry… He never felt that strongly about anything…. About anyone… what.. What was wrong with him….

A large cable descended from the wires above, and plugged into his PAK, lifting him above so he’s at level with the Control Brains. Abacus let out a small whimper. 

**“Defender Abacus.”** Boomed the voice that seemed to be coming inside his own head. **“You stand accused of attacking a superior Irken Taller on the day of your graduation exam. How do you plead?”**

Abacus’s antenna hung low.

He had.

He had done that.

Why did he?

Mong was gone.

But it wasn’t fair…

Even if Abacus had the words to argue back, he couldn’t. The muzzle prevented him from speaking in his defense. His eyes turned downward instead. 

“Abacus...?” As if it couldn’t get any worse. Abacus heard the voice of his own Tallest speak up. “Didn’t I hear that name earlier today?”

 **“You have, My Tallest.”** The Control Brains spoke in their classic monotone, which was sounding more sinister to Abacus by the moment. **“He has the highest score among any of his hatchmates in his batch. Rivaled only by Mong.”**

“Ah.” The Tallest popped their lips. “What is that score?”

“ **40.900.995 points, my Tallest.”**

There was a long silence. Abacus couldn’t turn his head.

“This one is a rank B Taller….” The Tallest said as if was examining him. “Shame to waste this one…. Your verdict?” 

**“Defender Abacus has experienced dangerous behavioral thought patterns in his data PAK, in addition to violence against his superiors, he has difficulty following simple instruction….”**

Abacus’s vision flashed white and he felt a jolt of electricity phase through his body. Once his vision returned he noticed a large screen displaying overhead. It was paying back memory data from his PAK. Every time he took the easy way out in a fight, or when his snackbreaks ended a little longer than necessary or when he gave backtalk to his superiors, it was all there. All for the Tallest and Control Brains to see. 

It wasn’t like… he fought others for the joy of it….He didn’t want to pursue it when it got too intense… It wasn’t common for Tallers to have a bit of an attitude… he wasn’t being graded on his personality….. Abacus tried to reason with himself, but seeing his own memories played back to back painted a rather unflattering picture towards the Tallest of who he really was...

Such as him ‘forgetting’ to return his Trainee PAKlegs, as if that was an act of treason adding to a larger picture and not a simple act of forgetfulness. 

But he wasn’t… a bad Irken… he couldn’t be a… de…..He wasn’t. 

Images flashed on the screen of different superior Irkens calling him lazy, or him being disrespectful towards them. Showing his attitude problem with Tallers in general. 

They deserved it. They were being rude… it wasn’t his fault… He wasn’t… Mong wasn’t...

All ending with the cherry on top, him presenting the donut to Mong. The Memory rollback from the Control Brains ended there.

“He shared food….” The Tallest said with no emotion behind their voice. 

But Mong needed food.

He was starving…

What was the problem?!?

There was no Irken law about sharing food was there?!?

No, there wasn’t!

He knew. He had them memorized! 

“ **Yes. Due to Abacus’s thought patterns and his violence and disdain for Tallers, we are to believe his PAK is corrupted and is Defective.”**

Abacus’s antenna twitched. 

He wasn’t.

He knew he wasn’t…

Mong wasn’t either… but…

Why did he care so much…. 

Mong… 

Their fight ultimately ended Mong….

He could have been a Defender with him….

If not in his squad, he would have been alive.

He should have stayed with him.

Made an excuse.

Something.

Mong must have spent his final moments hating him.

The last thing he said… he’d smell him later….

He…

He left him alone.

He shouldn’t.

Why does he care so much?!

What was wrong with him… 

Maybe he was defective….

**“He is too dangerous to be a Defender. He’d be far more likely to turn on his Tallers, perhaps even you, My Tallest.”**

“Hmm… your proposal?” The Tallest stated, as if they were asking about something as casual as the weather.

**“Defender Abacus is to be culled-”**

“I don’t accept that.” 

Abacus released a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

**“My Tallest?”**

“Dangerous as he may be, the scores don’t lie. I’ve heard his name more than once from Commander {REDACTED} and all that raw talent going to waste is an unsatisfactory verdict.”

There was a lengthy pause that hung in the air.

**“With all due respect, My Tallest…”** The Control Brains began. **“Defender Abacus is Defective in a way that could very well affect the Irken brain. He might not take to the conversion process.”**

Conversion… process?

“All the other Irkens this rotation have been disappointment after disappointment. After such a large amount of Irkens that were culled and downloaded, you’re going to tell me the only ones with the best potential are Defectives? And the one with the highest score isn’t even fit to be a Computer Brain?”

A Computer…. Brain….

The only ones…. With the best Potential… 

Abacus’s eyes widened, gaping at his reflection beyond the Control Brain’s eyes. 

Mong??

He was….

**“That is correct.”** The Control Brains responded.

“Unacceptable. If he can’t be a soldier or Defender, make him a Computer Brain.” 

**“That is your compromise?”**

“It’s the only verdict I accept.” 

“THAT’S NOT FAIR!!!” Abacus shrieked as loud as he could through his muzzle. 

There was a silence from the Tallest and the Control Brains.

THAT’S NOT FAIR! IT’S NOT FAIR! IT’S NOT FAIR!!!!! 

MONG ONLY LOST CAUSE HE HASN’T EATEN ANYTHING!

IT WASN’T HIS FAULT!

IT WASN’T FAIR!

HE SHOULDN’T DIE OVER THIS EITHER!

IT WASN’T HIS FAULT!

IT WASN’T THEIR FAULT!!

HE THOUGHT HE DESERVED HIS PUNISHMENT!

BUT HE DIDN’T! 

HE DID NOTHING WRONG!

MONG DID NOTHING WRONG EITHER!

IT WASN’T FAIR!

Abacus was unaware if his pleading cries even reached the Tallest or the Control Brains. He could barely hear the words exchanged before he felt a crack of lighting and a loud zap coursing through his PAK.

A blood curdling shriek came out of his throat as his PAK was yanked from him, his PAKlegs emerging and thrashing violently as it was being pulled from it’s organic shell. His life clock began ticking down in the corner of his vision. His antennae were yanked back and his muzzle tightened. Abacus thrashed and pulled against the cables holding him with all his might. He felt sharp tools being dug into his skull… and everything went white.

\--------------------------------

All these memory rollback errors played back to Computer in the span of a few seconds. Like a VHS tape being played in fast forward and in slow motion. The quality was low and some details were lost. He could barely remember what those two Irkens looked like. As if everything was a hazy, yet vivid sleep paralysis dream that stretched on for eternity. Everything was crystal clear, but so foggy and muddled at the same time. 

Computer for once in his life, had no thoughts. 

He was scared to think.

He knew what everything implied.

How could he process this?

….What will he do?

What could he do?

He was vaguely aware of the telephone ringing….jolting him out of his stupor a little…. but GIR answered before he could even think about picking up the phone…. Something about a DVD being overdue…. GIR running to find the DVD so he could watch it before it was late, crashing into walls more so then he usually did.

The Computer's camera focused on the grey deactivated Artificial Intelligence Brain he held in his claw. Bearing Abacus’s name, and his Invader Computer’s activation number.

What… had happened to him?

Was…. he even alive… in this state… 

If he’s holding this brain…..

What is powering his thoughts….. Right now?

………..

Before he could even reflect on that thought….

In a brief moment of clarity……

He brought his old brain to the frozen storage where the other brains were.

He didn’t know if his old brain was “blank”.... Or if it would ever work again but...

…..The Other brains……

Computer took a deep shuddering synthetic breath. 

The brains were all….

They were all…. Irken at one point…

Were they……?

The Computer eyed the dull soft pink glows of the five remaining backup brains.

Once he plugged his old brain into storage… it let off a faint pink glow.

Was… that brain alive then, or….

….

What brain is in him now?

…..

Is that…. Is that why he also has…. Mong’s memories?....

There was no way to read the current brain’s serial number that he has in his conduit.

No…. there was a way.

He knew it.

And he hated it.

He brought up the footage seconds before Zim unplugged the first brain, and the reboot began.

He focused his cameras on the underside of the new brain.

**IRKEN INVADER BRAIN “MONG” 08242001**

An echo sounded in Computer’s brain…. 

From the data transfer…

When his consciousness was lost in the data beam…

It felt so crowded….

He was there…. It was dark… but GIR was there…

He was getting a bunch of jumbled corrupted images that didn’t make sense.

But on further reflection…. He heard a voice there….

A voice that wasn’t his own.

That didn’t belong to him or GIR.

**_“I’m glad I got to see you again.”_ **

Their consciousness met and parted…. 

**_“You need this more than I do.”_ **

He was confused and sad when it happened….

And now… only in this moment he realized what it meant…

Just as Little Abacus had given him that donut all those eons ago….. 

Mong had given him his whole brain.

When Mong’s consciousness saw there was no room in the Brain for GIR and for Abacus’s consciousness…..

He gave it to Abacus.

Mong saw fit to let his conscience mind be deleted and erased forever in the data beam.

There was just no room.

**_“I’m glad I got to see you again.”_ **

The House rumbled with a strangled sob.

A mournful noise gone unnoticed by all the inhabitants except for GIR.

**_“You need this more than I do.”_ **

_That is so cruel Mong…… You needed it more._

_You needed it more._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I met you I gave you my heart  
>  _'Cause I knew you'd need it more  
>  And though I'm glad you've got this new part,  
> Still it leaves me very sore_
> 
>  _I'm glad that you will be alright  
>  There's nothing else I could ask for  
> So go enjoy your brand new life  
> As I bleed oil on the floor _  
> The Cog is Dead- Oil on the Floor
> 
> Man. I hope people REALLY like what I have in mind for Computer's backstory. It was in my mind forever and took forever to write. It might be different than what people expected because I feel it's kinda easy to go "He got culled cause he was too lazy" or something.
> 
> But things I analyzed about Computer's character (despite the very few lines he has) ....How he helps people reluctantly, his boredom, and his desire to not want to do anything if he doesn't want to.
> 
> Giving Abacus a heightened sense of justice and a smart mind seemed just like a natural fit for who he would eventually become.
> 
> And if I could compare the two, Abacus is far more headstrong than the Computer, but he's still very young and inexperienced. He's essentially a child asking "Why" and every adult around him just tells him "that's just the way it is" and kids never like that answer.
> 
> But there's the thing, we see lots of Irkens throughout the show being lazy. Especially the Tallest, but also Zim's fellow Invaders.
> 
> It wasn't just because Abacus was lazy.... He was disrespectful, but he was smart.... too smart...
> 
> Mong is a majority of Computer's "what's the point" attitude, which gets worse from here on out. (since that's his main brain now) 
> 
> And if you have a lot of questions, like I'm sure the Computer does... I swear they will get answered next chapter probably. We're not done learning about Mong and Abacus and who they were and what this means for the Computer now. 
> 
> Computer has a lot of information to process and think about... he's going to piece together a lot of parts of the puzzle... and he won't like it. 
> 
> (i apologize for any grammar or spelling errors this time. I just get excited and I want to get this chapter out asap. I rewrote about five scenes of this... Please give me feedback... I worked so hard on Computer's backstory, my god.)


End file.
